


Crossroads

by Silverfox



Series: Both or Neither [2]
Category: Saber Rider and the Star Sheriffs
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-24 18:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 70,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfox/pseuds/Silverfox
Summary: After Saber's breakdown the team is grounded and Commander Eagle contemplates splitting it up entirely, but the individual team members, too, are as much at a crossroads as the new cadets arriving at the Star Sheriff Academy. In the end there will be a new line-up, but who will stay, who will leave ... and who will join in their place?





	1. December

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this soon after finishing Both or Neither, wrote a few scenes and then ... it sat on a memory stick for years before I picked it up again. I hope the cut isn't too noticeable, but it probably is. (And that's not even the only mistake I made in writing this fic, still hopefully it's readable.)
> 
> This is part of the Both or Neither universe, but can be read on its own. It only covers events among the Fleshlings, but if you want to keep track of the timeline Jesse is on Ishara at the start of this fic and most of the events in the next part of the series (Fire or Ice) will run paralell to the later chapters of it, with the story lines of the humans and the Outriders once again coming together at the end of Fire or Ice.

Chapter 1: December

 

"No!" Saber slammed his fist down on the desk hard enough to send his commander's orange juice splashing over the rim of its glass. "You can't do this!"

"I know it isn't a perfect solution, but the political situation forces us to replace Ramrod or cancel the project entirely." Commander Eagle explained gently.

A small voice in Saber's head reminded him that the situation really didn't merit such a reaction. A less forgiving man than Commander Eagle would probably have kicked him out of the meeting for his behaviour.

"Hey boss, calm down." Fireball sounded surprised, but amused.

This was completely unlike Saber and he knew it. He needed to get a grip on his emotions, push them away as he usually did, but lately that was getting harder and harder and his heart was hammering, fists clenching all on their own. He felt like he couldn't possibly relax those cramped muscles ever again, like he couldn't even breathe anymore.

Sitting became an impossible restriction and he jumped up.

"I think we'd better postpone this, Commander." Colt spoke up unexpectedly and sounding unusually serious. What was going on? Normally he left the discussions to Saber and Fireball only cutting in where his expertise would prove useful. "We've had a hard week and really need a rest."

"The decision stands anyway." Commander Eagle nodded at Fireball bypassing Saber's authority. "I'll give you your new orders tomorrow."

"No!" Saber yelled again and threw himself at the Commander, but Colt reacted in time to catch him and hold him back.

It was almost as if the cowboy had expected the sudden attack when even Saber had never thought it possible only a moment ago.

Fireball joined Colt's efforts less than a second later and Saber's struggles reduced. Now all he was trying to do was shake them off, no longer to attack the commander. All of a sudden he just wanted to get out of here, to be alone.

"Saber?" Fireball asked sounding confused. "Hey, what's wrong?"

It took him a moment to realise what had his friend so concerned: He was shaking all over.

"Leave him, partner." Colt advised. "He'll be okay. Commander, I think you might want to consider giving that new mission to a fresh team and allowing us a few days to recover. Or maybe a quiet patrol ..."

Saber didn't hear an answer, but maybe Commander Eagle had responded non-verbally. He couldn't see him anymore. He'd had to lower his head, to hide the tears that were brimming in his eyes, because he couldn't hold them back any longer.

Colt kept a hand on his shoulder as they walked back to Fireball's car, steering him around any obstacles that his tear-blind eyes might have missed.

"What's wrong with him, Colt?" April's voice came from somewhere to the right, but seemingly very far away. He'd completely forgotten that she was there, but then he didn't really care right now. He just wanted to be alone and cry.

"Later." Colt returned. "Just get in the car. We need to take him home. Some sleep will probably help a lot."

Apparently April took the front seat next to Fireball as Colt guided Saber into the back and slipped in after him. Saber curled up in the back trying not to sob too loudly.

"Shh, it's okay." Colt rubbed his back.

It was oddly comforting.

 

As soon as they reached Ramrod Saber retreated into his bed.

Fireball wanted to follow him into the room, but Colt held him back.

"No, let him cry himself out," he advised and nodded towards the kitchen.

"What's so important about this mission?" April asked while mechanically starting the coffee machine.

"Nothing," Colt answered flopping into his usual chair. "This has nothing to do with the mission at all."

"Then what?" Fireball asked. "I've never seen him like this. No even after Lily."

"You mean you really didn't see this coming?" Colt sighed. "It's been building up for a long time. I knew he had to break down sooner or later."

"Break down from what?" April demanded. "There was nothing special about this mission."

"Emotional overload," Colt explained. "Didn't you ever notice how he just kept burying away his feelings and never let them out? Now it's just become too much and they're coming out whether he wants to let them or not."

"And you think he'll be okay after a good night's sleep?" April sounded doubtful.

Fireball looked frightened. He relied on Saber's strength too much.

"He'll be better once he's cried himself to exhaustion and then slept it off," Colt explained. "Whether he'll be emotionally stable, I can't say. In the long run it'll probably be better if he isn't."

"What?" Fireball exclaimed. "How can you say that?"

"Because, well, just think about it: If he feels okay again, what will he do?"

"Go back to the way everything was before?" Fireball suggested hopefully.

"Exactly," Colt confirmed. "And start bottling it all up again until the next time he breaks."

"So what would you have us do?" April asked. "Admit him to a mental institution?"

"If that'll help him," Colt said. "He should at least see a professional and if he isn't okay tomorrow, we might be able to convince him to get help of his own accord."

"I've got a better idea." April grinned, happy again now that she had found a solution. "I'll just call Daddy. He can order a medical check-up. Especially after what he saw today."

 

They left Saber alone until after dinner, but then decided that he needed to eat as well. Due to his newly discovered psychological talents Colt was unanimously elected to play nurse.

"Hey boss, feeling better now?" Colt asked when he entered with the food tray trying to make it sound as casual as possible.

Saber was lying on his back on the bed no longer crying, but his face still wet with tears. He turned his head to look at Colt, but didn't answer the question. Maybe he didn't trust his voice, or maybe he just wasn't sure what to say.

"Well, you definitely look like you're feeling better," Colt decided. "April thought you should have some dinner." He nodded towards the tray. "But you don't have to come out, if you don't feel like it, yet."

"Thanks." Saber's voice sounded empty and tired, but he didn't seem to mind Colt's presence.

Colt took it as an invitation to sit on the bed.

Saber slowly sat up and regarded the food without much interest.

"Has the Commander sent our new orders, yet?" he asked still in that empty tone.

"No, but you're expected at the medical centre for a psychological assessment tomorrow morning," Colt answered as if that were an everyday occurrence. "I think he might want to see the results before deciding on our next mission."

"I really messed up there, didn't I?" Saber admitted hesitantly. "I don't know what he must be thinking of me now."

"He's just worried about you," Colt explained. "He likes you, you know."

"Maybe he did before, but now ..." Saber was playing with his food as an excuse not to look at Colt.

"He still does," Colt insisted. "He's just worried."

"I attacked him."

"You didn't mean to and I'm sure he knows that."

"Are you?" Saber sighed. "Colt, I have no idea why I did that. I don't know what's happening to me."

"I do." Colt stated just as calmly as before.

Saber finally looked at him. "Well?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Colt hesitated. "It might be better if you hear it from a professional tomorrow."

"That bad?" Saber's eyes returned to the food.

"I don't know, if it's bad," Colt admitted. "I guess that depends on how hard you'll find it to ... change."

"Change?" Saber was looking at him again. A small success. "Change what?"

"That damn stiff attitude of yours," Colt laughed and gave him a slight push.

"What stiff attitude?" Saber looked just a little indignant and Colt's heart made a tiny jump of joy. He was going to be alright!

"The way you never talk to us," he explained. "That's really all that's wrong with you, you know. If you'd just start letting people in a little, you'd be fine."

"What do you mean I don't talk to you?" Saber asked startled. "We talk all the time."

"Yes, we talk. About my girlfriend troubles and Fireball's temper and April's worries over her weight and spending too much on the latest fashions. But you always just listen. You never really tell us what worries you."

"There's nothing you can help me with," Saber explained. "And I've always been able to deal with it just fine."

"And now it's crushing you," Colt stated. "Maybe we can't help you any more than you can help me stop tangling with every girl I meet, or Fireball get rid of his temper, or April stop spending too much money shopping, but we can listen to your problems, just like you listen to ours. And once in a while you can take your feelings out on us, before you do it on a commanding officer. It'll save us some trouble."

"I can handle my feelings," Saber insisted.

 

And he told the very same thing to the psychologist the next morning.

"Only if you deal with them," the old man returned. "But you don't. You've shut them away and separated them from the rest of you to a point that borders on schizophrenia."

Saber actually jumped at that. It was like a kick to his stomach. If that was the man's diagnosis it meant the end of his career. Cavalry Command had no room for people with mental illnesses. It just couldn't afford it.

"If you don't start working on acknowledging and confronting your feelings, this will happen again, Saber," the doctor continued watching it all sink in. "And it will only happen more and more frequently in time."

Saber lowered his head and didn't say anything. What could he say? Commander Eagle was going to believe whatever this man told him. He wouldn't have sent him to this particular doctor, if he didn't trust his expertise.

"I'd like to keep you here for a few days at least," the doctor decided finally. "And I'd like to talk to your team before I make a final decision on your further treatment after that."

Saber nodded his agreement in defeat. If he didn't stay voluntarily, Commander Eagle would probably have him admitted by force and then he definitely wouldn't get out any time soon.

 

Saber sat on the bed in his hopefully temporary "room" hugging his knees and glaring at the padded walls miserably. He didn't think they'd locked the door, at least. According to the nurse he'd only been put here, because they didn't have any other rooms free.

"We had to lend some out to the burns ward after that fire in town last week," she'd explained. "They weren't equipped for that many casualties."

The burns ward was three floors down from here, but then the ward above it was the quarantine station and if that was in use it was probably considered too risky to put the burns patients near the quarantined ones.

He didn't remember what was on the other floor between them. Maybe it was unsuitable for burns patients as well, or maybe they'd borrowed rooms from several other wards. He shouldn't worry about it so much.

"Hey boss, how're ya feeling?" Colt stood in the door.

"Okay." Apparently they really hadn't locked him in as Colt was obviously alone and must have let himself in.

It was a relief and Saber wondered why he hadn't thought to just try the door, if it had been such a big issue. Then again, he hadn't even realised it had been so important to him. What was going on with him?

"Really?" Colt asked more seriously glancing around.

"I guess so," Saber returned. "Apparently they've lent out all their other rooms." he added.

"Intimidating, huh?"

"I guess so," Saber said again. "But then hospital rooms always are a little discomforting."

"Would you honestly like it better, if it weren't white?" Colt clearly didn't expect him to.

He shrugged. No, the problem were the padded walls and the gnawing fear that they might be there for a very good reason, but he couldn't tell Colt that he was afraid that he might really be losing his mind, so he said nothing.

"Funny to walk on," Colt commented. "You shouldn't even need a bed in here. You could sleep right on the floor as soft as it is."

"I think I prefer the bed, thank you very much."

"Aw, you have no spirit of adventure," Colt complained. "This room's wasted on you really. It'd be a great playground for children."

He hopped about laughing, then let himself drop into a wall.

"Do you think it's soundproof?" he asked then.

"What?"

"Well, it doesn't seem to have an echo at all."

"Soft surfaces swallow sound, while blank walls reflect it," Saber reminded him. "I guess sound wouldn't carry outside easily, but they've probably got a microphone or two in here." Another spooky thought.

"Bugs?" Colt didn't look all that happy with it either.

"They'd have to supervise the patients in here somehow," Saber pointed out. "Especially the ones they'd normally put into a cell like this."

Would they have hidden cameras in here as well? They didn't have any reason to watch him, though, did they?

He had to distract himself, think of something else.

"Where are Fireball and April?" he asked Colt. "I sort of expected they'd come with you."

"Still talking to your doctor, I think," Colt shrugged. "He wanted to speak with each of us separately and I went first."

"What do you think of him?"

"Who, Fireball?"

"No, the doctor."

"Well, he's a doctor," Colt stated. "I don't like those stuck up studied fellows. For a stuck up studied fellow he's quite nice, though. Seems to know his stuff."

"I hate him," Saber admitted to his own surprise.

"Oh?" Colt made casually. "Why?"

Saber shrugged. "I don't know. I just want to get as far away from him as possible."

Colt laughed. "Are you sure that's the doctor and not the hospital?"

Well, now that he thought about it ...

"It's okay to be scared, you know," Colt said. "Nobody likes hospitals."

"But I have nothing to be scared of," Saber returned. "I'm not having surgery, they're not going to diagnose me with a terminal illness here, they won't even give me any medication."

"Just makes you wonder even more what they actually are going to do with you, doesn't it?"

Just how did Colt know all that?

"Maybe," he admitted with a sigh.

Colt smiled triumphantly at him. "I'll take that as a yes."

Just great.

"It's only for two or three days, though," Colt confirmed. "Then they'll let you go home."

"If the doctor so pleases," Saber amended. "What if he prefers to keep me here?"

"What for?" Colt asked. "You said yourself that they're short on rooms and you've got us to watch you for any further symptoms. Which aren't likely to occur while you're attending therapy sessions anyway. And those are his words, not mine."

"Commander Eagle might want him to keep me."

"Eagle wants us working," Colt snorted. "And you are able to work. He'll probably have us sorting other people's reports for months, though."

"He could give you a replacement team leader," Saber said. "Or send you on patrol without me. Fireball can lead a simple mission as long as it doesn't require Ramrod to go into challenge phase and how often do we do that now that the Outriders are gone?"

"The doctor wants us here with you," Colt stated. "He's even considering group therapy."

"Not seriously!" Please no!

"Not very, but he is," Colt admitted. "He wants us to be here to support you, so we're not going off planet any time soon."

"And on planet you won't need Ramrod. You've got your plane and Fireball his car. There are probably lots of engineering projects that could use April's help, or you could teach at the Academy again."

"And you've got Steed and are a better teacher than either of us anyway."

 

"I'm not sure, Sir," the psychologist told Commander Eagle. "Of course it would be best for Saber, if he got used to talking to his friends rather than me from the start, but we also have to consider the possible consequences for the team."

"Do you think they'd be capable of taking over such a large part of the treatment?" Commander Eagle asked. "They're not trained for it. In fact April is the only one I'm sure has had any training in psychology at all. That was only the basic Academy course, though and she showed very little aptitude for it." In fact she'd almost failed her final exams because of that very subject.

"That's not required," the doctor assured him. "All they'll have to do is prompt him to talk about his feelings and insist, if he tries to avoid answering. I can train them to do that."

"What is the problem with that course of action then?" Commander Eagle asked. "I know Colt can be very irresponsible, but he does care about his friends a lot and the other two are very reliable. If you tell them that it's important, you can be sure they'll do it."

"I'm not worried about Saber's treatment and even less about Colt," the doctor explained. "In fact Colt seems to have a much better understanding of the situation than April. I seriously doubt that he really hasn't had any psychological training at all."

"Oh I never meant to say he didn't. I just don't know what kind of training he has had as he never attended the Star Sheriff Academy."

"Colt knows what Saber needs and I'm quite convinced that he can and will take an important part in this," the doctor stated. "What I'm worried about is the effect on the other team members. April, I think, will be a little insecure about it at first. She understands what Saber needs from her, I believe, but isn't sure she knows how to do it. It might take her a while to adapt to the situation, but she ought to get used to it once she learns how to act around Saber. The one I'm really worried about is Fireball, though. I'm not sure whether he can deal with the situation at all."

"Fireball?" Commander Eagle repeated surprised. "Fireball is very impulsive, but I doubt he'd have a problem with helping his friend out. I always got the impression that he was Saber's closest friend."

"He admires Saber a lot, idolises him," the doctor agreed. "A little too much, in fact, if you ask me. He refuses to accept that Saber isn't perfect, or might need his help. Having to accept that might shake his own confidence to the point that he could require therapy as well, and I don't have to tell you what that might do to the team as a whole. For Fireball it would be best to either transfer him to another team or replace Saber. Saber however needs the support of his friends. Replacing him on the team would be the worst possible thing to do and taking one of his team members away because of his condition would cause him to feel guilty. He also wouldn't trust a new team member with his feelings as easily as his old friends, so that person would be an obstacle to his treatment."

"So what would be the result of keeping Saber at the hospital?" Eagle asked after a moment of pensive silence.

"It would probably make all of them, except perhaps Colt, view the situation as more serious, maybe even more serious than it actually is. Saber would be frightened. Colt believes that I've already scared him more than is good for him. We don't want people to think that we consider him dangerously insane."

"Definitely not!" Eagle exclaimed.

"Colt would be mad at me for scaring Saber and keeping him from the people who can help him most. April would be relieved to have more time to learn how to cope with the situation."

"But what about Fireball?" Commander Eagle asked. "From what you said before I got the impression that he was the reason that you don't want to send Saber home now."

"That's the actual problem. On one hand it would give me more time to slowly coax Fireball into accepting the situation, which increases the chances that he will be able to deal with it, on the other it will make it appear like Saber's problem is much more serious than if I sent him home after the first assessment and that is likely to scare Fireball even more. It's hard to predict which of the two effects will be stronger."

Commander Eagle nodded and fell silent. When the doctor opened his mouth to say something however he lifted his hand to stop him.

"No, let me think this through first," was all he said before returning to several more minutes of silence.

"So keeping Saber at the hospital would have disadvantages for everybody, compared to one possible advantage," he said finally. "And we can't even tell whether Fireball might not be able to handle it after all, if Saber is released right now?"

The doctor nodded. "If he doesn't, it will have serious repercussions for the entire team, though. Perhaps to the point that they will no longer be reliable at all."

That would mean that he'd have to train an entirely new and inexperienced Ramrod team. The robot was too important to risk on a team that didn't function perfectly together and in challenge phase teamwork was the most decisive factor for its efficiency.

Then again now that the Outriders were defeated was the perfect time to train a new team. As their ultimate weapon Ramrod wasn't really needed anymore and its revolutionary technology and superior abilities might be more efficiently used in scientific rather than military missions.

A more scientifically oriented team – April as an engineer might enjoy such a new field of application for her talents, but Saber would be wasted on it and Colt and Fireball detrimental to the purpose. Saber was predominately a soldier despite his scientific interests, though he could function as computer specialist and pilot for the team. Maybe it would do him good to switch into a less stressful field much as Eagle hated the thought of losing such a promising young officer. A gunner and additional pilot wouldn't be needed, though. Instead the team should have experts for Cosmography and Chemistry/Physics.

That was an option he should keep in mind, if things went wrong.

"Release him then," he decided. "Lets trust in Fireball's ability to cope for now and keep an eye on the situation. If you see that he can't manage, tell me and I will arrange the necessary reassignments."

"It will hurt them all to know they failed to cope with the problem then."

"That's why I won't tell them. I will give them good reasons for reassigning Ramrod to a different team and Fireball will be separated from them, because his qualifications will be needed elsewhere." Eagle smiled. "They'll be sad to say good-bye, but can continue to be friends over a distance."

 

Saber returned to Ramrod after three days at the hospital.

"Relieved they let you out?" Colt welcomed him as he entered the kitchen.

"It's more comfortable to be home," Saber allowed.

"Oh, admit it you were scared out of your mind that they'd keep you," Colt teased. "You practically told me so already."

"I was not," Saber denied.

"Saber isn't scared of anything, right boss?" Fireball laughed.

"Yes, he is," Colt insisted.

"Is not," argued Fireball.

"Everybody is afraid of something," stated April. "Though not necessarily hospitals, Colt."

"Yes, but he was afraid," Colt said once again.

"Was not," Fireball repeated.

"Enough," Saber finally stepped in. "Colt's exaggerating as usual, but I did indeed mention to him that I was worried that Commander Eagle might take my breakdown more seriously than it was and insist I remain at the hospital."

"So what?" April asked. "What'd be so bad about a few more days at the hospital?"

"He can't keep you guys hanging around the base without anything to do indefinitely," Saber pointed out. "He'd have had to replace me and send you off on a new mission. ... And I would have missed you." he added almost inaudibly.

"Talking about missions, our new assignments arrived this morning," Fireball remembered. "And you're not going to like them."

"Why?" April asked alarmed. "They aren't really replacing Saber, are they?"

"No, but we're not going out together either," Fireball said sadly.

"That was obvious from the start," Saber commented. "I've still got therapy sessions twice a week so I have to stay on the planet."

Fireball nodded. "Ramrod's going into the hangar for a mayor systems maintenance and several upgrades," he reported. "April will supervise that, of course, and the rest of us will spend the next year teaching at the Academy again."

"Teaching?" Colt laughed. "So what's a turbo-brain like you supposed to teach?"

"I," Fireball announced proudly. "Will be giving Driving lessons."

"You do realise that that means preparing snotty fifteen year old nitwits for their driving licence exams, don't you?" April took him down a notch. "No wild racing."

"It'll still be a lot more fun than Colt's job," Fireball grinned. "And just imagine all those pretty fifteen year old women."

"With spots all over them," April sniffed.

"What will I be teaching then?" Colt asked. "Gun Safety again most likely. That might not be overly fun, but I will have you know that it's an extremely important and responsible position."

"Actually you've been promoted to actual Shooting teacher," Fireball admitted. "But you'll have to take over Basic Psychology as well. I suppose they must be really desperate. I didn't even know you were qualified."

"I'm not, but you learn something new all the time."

"I think you are qualified," April stated. "You were great with Saber. I wouldn't have known how to react at all."

"Just don't use me as teaching material for your classes," Saber joked.

"Don't worry. I expect there'll be a course book to go by," Colt grinned.

"And what will I be doing?" Saber asked Fireball. "Fencing lessons?"

Fireball winced. "I'm afraid not."

"That was a joke, Fireball," Saber explained wondering whether his friends knew that he'd been ordered to hand in all his weapons. "There aren't many students interested in fencing. It'd probably amount to one or two hours of work a week. Hardly a full time job."

"Your job's really boring, though," Fireball said in an apologetic tone. "Weapons Theory and History of Strategy. Who'll be interested in that?"

"Very few people at the Academy," Saber agreed. "But there's a reason they are mandatory classes. The cadets might not like them now, but they'll find that they become quite useful in an emergency later in their careers. Both can be vital, if you need to come up with a new strategy quickly."

Still somebody had very carefully picked quiet and purely theoretical courses for him. Usually those were taught by older or crippled Sheriffs who were no longer fit for active duty. There certainly couldn't be a shortage of qualified teachers.

"Weapons Theory?" Fireball commented doubtfully.

"It covers what you can do with a weapon as well as the mechanical principles behind its construction. An attentive student will be able to come up with unusual applications for his weapons as well as perform simple repairs and modifications on them when necessary," Saber returned. "You're not a mechanic, Fireball, but I've seen you tinker with your turbo often enough. That's the same principle."


	2. Primember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I picked up writing this again I had an idea of switching between the four main characters in the same order after the end of ever scene when I wrote this. It sounded good in theory, but didn't read as well in praxis especially where April was concerned since she is off doing her own thing for most of this and therefore ended up with a lot of short filler scenes that merely cut into the tale for no good reason. At other times it would have been better to jump to a different one of the boys than had his turn as well though so in the end I cut the whole thing up combined what scenes I could into longer ones and sorted them by plot threads and chronological order (April's was pretty messed up in the first draft). I definitely won't work with such a rule again.

Chapter 2: Primember

 

The new school year at the Star Sheriff Academy started only a few weeks later and the whole teaching staff had to assemble for General Whitehawke's welcoming speech along with the students on the first day of term.

It was a hectic day for the entire base since most of the students arrived that morning, luggage in tow and no idea where to go. They managed to wind up just about everywhere looking desperately for their quarters, the headmaster's office or even just something to eat.

The returning students from the adjoined high school were the least troublesome as they were already familiar with the grounds. The only problem with them was that they tended to block the way by stopping in the middle of corridors or right outside doors to talk to friends they hadn't seen for an entire month of school holidays dropping their luggage where they stood with no thought for their fellow students.

That and the noise they made calling out to their friends over the heads of their talking companions, Fireball thought as he sent another group of excitedly babbling teenagers on their way.

Only a few metres down that corridor he ran into a crying ten year old who sniffed out that she didn't know where to report in and wanted to go home. Fireball sighed, picked up her suitcase and led her to General WhiteHawke's motherly secretary Molly by the hand. Hopefully she would know how to calm the girl.

How crazy were some parents to pack their ten year old children off to a boarding school on another planet anyway? Couldn't they just keep them at the local high school until they were fourteen?

The biggest and most troublesome group of newcomers was made up of such fourteen and some fifteen year olds who were transferring to the Academy for their last year of schooling. These were the students it was all about, the future Star Sheriffs. The high school was just like any other military school with no obligation for its students to continue on to the Academy and become Star Sheriffs.

"Do you have time to take Hannah to the girls' dorms?" Molly asked him after checking the little girl off on her register. "I can't leave here and we don't want her to get lost again."

Fireball nodded. "Sure Molly."

She could probably have asked one of the older kids, but then Hannah was still sniffling. She might start up again, if left without the comforting presence of an adult.

"She's in room 98," Molly called after them as they left, then turned to the next impatient and confused student.

"Maybe we'd better stop at a bathroom first," Fireball suggested to the little girl. "You don't want to show up in the dorm with tear stains on your face. Your dorm mates might mistake you for a crybaby."

She nodded, but looked almost scared when she realised that Fireball would have to wait outside the bathroom.

"It's a girls' bathroom," Fireball pointed out apologetically. "I'm not allowed."

"Are you a teacher?" she asked when she returned a drop of water still glistening on her chin.

"Yes, but only for this year," Fireball explained. "I'm actually a Star Sheriff."

"Oh! Are all the teachers soldiers?" She looked a little scared.

"Most," Fireball replied truthfully. "They're often older sheriffs who're not so keen on active duty anymore. At least the permanent ones. The rest are filled up by temporary assignments as in my case. And then there are some civilian specialists as well."

"I don't even know how to march." Wide worried eyes looked up at him.

"The high school doesn't march," Fireball promised. "And if you go to the Academy in a few years, I'm sure they'll teach you there."

"That's good. What do you teach?"

"I'm a Driving instructor." There were four others he'd found out.

The academy took in 720 students each year. Plus about 20 who stayed on in the high school rather than become Star Sheriffs. Almost all of them wanted to learn how to drive.

"I don't have Driving lessons," Hannah said disappointed.

"You have to be fifteen," Fireball agreed. "Minors aren't allowed to drive."

At least that assured that not all 740 fifth years applied for driving lessons at once.

"There are a lot of other nice teachers, though," he continued after a moment. "My friend Colt teaches Shooting for example."

Saber didn't have any high school classes at all and Psychology wasn't offered to first years either. Apparently it was considered to be a bit over their heads.

"I like that," Hannah decided. "Guns are cool."

"Yes, but also dangerous," Fireball remembered just in time that he was supposed to be a responsible adult. "Always remember to treat them with caution."

"I will," Hannah agreed earnestly.

They'd reached the student quarters now and Fireball suddenly realised that he'd never set foot inside that building before. Well, the doors should be numbered, right? He just needed to find the 90s.

As it turned out there even was a guiding system and thanks to being taller than most of the students Fireball had no problem reading the inscriptions over their heads. Rooms 1 to 23 were on the left, 24 to 46 to the right and 47 to 113 upstairs.

He vaguely remembered someone mentioning that the ground floor had originally been intended to be the girls' dorms, but it had turned out that there were a lot fewer female cadets than male ones and only half of it was reserved for them now, while the left side of the building appeared to hold boys' dorms. Why wasn't Hannah's room in the girls' wing then?

The first floor seemed to house only boys. Room numbers 69-74 on the left and 75 to 92 on the right. 93 to 113 were up another flight of stairs.

They ended up directly under the roof where it was boiling hot. Why couldn't they have given the building an attic? And the numbering was inconsistent as well! To the right where Fireball had expected the girls' dorms were rooms 105 to 113. Numbers 94 to 103 turned out to be on the left.

One of the doors they passed stood wide open revealing the sight of three arguing boys. They were a lot smaller than the students they'd seen downstairs and Fireball finally realised that those had been the Academy dorms while these had to be the high school's.

The noise level was thankfully a little lower here, but to make up for it it was occasionally punctuated by high pitched shrieks.

There was an open glass door in the middle of the corridor which turned out to separate the girls from the boys. Fireball thought that that wouldn't have been much of a barrier for Colt, but then the oldest boys in here would be fourteen. It was probably more important to keep the Academy students apart.

Hannah insisted that he had to accompany her into her room, which turned out to hold nothing more than two desks, four cupboards and eight beds. No, Fireball wouldn't have liked to attend boarding school as a ten year old at all. He wouldn't have been able to share his cupboard with another student peacefully to start with.

 

Colt was enjoying his last few hours of freedom as best he could. He sat at the desk in the small office at the shooting range with his feet on the tabletop and hat pulled over his face, though not actually asleep.

From here all the hubbub in the main Academy buildings was just a distant background noise and Colt felt that he was being very productive by staying away and not contributing to the chaos. One person less to get in everybody else's way.

Officially he was studying his Psychology book to prepare himself for his first classes. It lay somewhere next to his left foot.

Or was it under his left foot? Well, on the desk anyway.

"Hey cool!" a voice drifted in through the door. "It's the shooting range! Look!"

"Complete with remote controlled targets!" another returned. "Incredible."

"I wonder where the controls are. Wouldn't it be great, if we could try them out?"

"I'd settle for just finding the guns. We can use those for targets."

Colt shot out of his chair. Whatever the boy had meant by 'those' might require rescuing and perhaps so did the boys themselves.

"Over there. It says armoury on the door."

"You're a genius!"

"No, he's an idiot," Colt stated throwing open the door. "What do you two think you're doing here? Didn't you see the sign on the door? It says authorised personnel only."

"We're authorised," the one with his hand on the armoury door stated. "We're Academy cadets."

He was wearing torn jeans and a t-shirt with the inscription "fuck me" and his hair was spiked with red, green and blue stripes.

"Yeah," his friend confirmed. "Who're you anyway? The class clown?"

This one was wearing camouflage pants and had no hair at all.

"No, I'm your teacher. So obviously you're the clowns," Colt sneered at them. "Step away from that door, young man. Those guns are for use during class time only."

The door was locked anyway, but that didn't mean it couldn't be forced open with enough determination.

"So what're ya gonna do about it?" the walking rainbow demanded.

"This once I'll assume that you really are too naive and stupid to know you're not allowed in here outside of class and will let you get away with a warning, but after the introduction this evening you won't have any excuse for being in here unsupervised. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," said camouflage pants.

Maybe the kid wasn't entirely bad after all.

"What are your names?" Colt demanded.

"Bran Jonasson, Sir."

"Jason Evans."

Colt nodded. "Well, Cadet Jonasson, this might come a little unexpected, but your choice of clothing isn't entirely ideal. I'd go change into something a little more conservative, if I were you. People will take you more seriously, if you don't look like a little boy playing jungle-trooper."

Jason sniggered.

"Don't laugh, Cadet Evans," Colt snapped. "Your dress style is a lot worse. At least Cadet Jonasson was just trying to demonstrate his enthusiasm for becoming a good soldier, misguided as it was. All you're demonstrating is that you're a sloppy little punk."

Jason looked down at his clothes then shrugged. "So what?"

"Well, the torn pants just scream: 'I'm a little white trash looser who can't even afford decent clothing.'" The boy acted enough like a stuck up snob that Colt assumed the comment would sting. "The shirt is outright offensive. If you want all your teachers to hate you at first glance, keep wearing that."

"It's just a shirt," the boy frowned. "And we'll get a uniform for class anyway."

"And you think everybody will be able to miss your get-up until then?" Colt snorted. "You're just setting yourself up for trouble Evans."

"Alright, Sir," Bran stepped in. "We'll just go change now, if that's okay with you."

Colt nodded towards the door. "Scoot ... Oh, and Evans? Unless that's your natural hair colour, I'd see a barber soon, if I were you. We have regulations concerning hair-styles, you see."

"Shaving it off is allowed, though, isn't it?" Bran asked nervously.

"It's not against regulations," Colt agreed. "Though not everybody will approve of it."

 

"I can't find my suitcase!" a tall blond girl shrieked up at Saber. "It's not there!"

"Calm down, young Lady," Saber advised her patiently. "I heard you."

"But my suitcase!"

"Not all the luggage from your shuttle has been unloaded, yet," Saber advised her. "Give it a few minutes."

"You're not leaving without me?"

"No, I'm just trying to establish who's who. If you could tell me your name ..."

"Anna Taylor," she smiled a little ruefully. "I've never travelled without my parents before."

Saber checked his list. "Ah, there you are. You're entering your third year of high school?"

"I got expelled," she admitted. "Accidentally set my old school on fire, but they wouldn't believe it was an accident, so they sent me here to be punished."

"We're not a prison, Anna," Saber assured her. "Try to think of it as a big adventure. You're heading out into the big wide world."

"Teacher, teacher!" a little boy was pulling at his sleeve.

"Yes, ... Jose, right?"

The first year nodded eagerly. "The Chinese girl has been taken by the police."

"Police?" Saber asked. "Chinese girl?"

"He means the guys from customs," sad-eyed Ian Doe explained. "They're searching her."

The name indicated that he was probably a foundling who'd never been adopted. Saber wondered what was wrong with him. Healthy babies usually found a new family within a few weeks.

"She said she was going to the Academy, too." Jose insisted.

Saber searched his list. He was still missing half of the ten students he was supposed to pick up from the space port.

"Liu Chang?" he asked. "Do you mean her?"

Jose shrugged.

"Well, she definitely sounds Chinese," Davie shrugged as well.

He'd apparently already attended the high school at Cavalry Command for four years and all this was routine to him.

"Right," Saber agreed. "She's not likely to be Tuesday Omawombe at least, but we'll find out for sure when she arrives. Where's Max?"

"Stayed by the car," Davie reported. "He said the fresh air is helping his space sickness."

"He shouldn't be left alone, if he's feeling sick," Saber admonished him gently.

"I'll stay with him, if you show me the way," Ian offered.

"Sure," Davie smiled at Ian. "It's right out that door and ..."

"Wait!" Saber called them back. "If you're going to the car, take your luggage with you. You too, Jose. You can come back in afterwards."

Ian picked up Jose's heavy suitcase leaving the boy with only a backpack to carry and the three were off.

"So Anna, lets see if we can find your suitcase now," he told the remaining girl. "What does it look like?"

"Pink, with little red hearts and ponies on," Anna blushed.

"That's nice," Saber smiled at her. Maybe he could help her view her new school a little more positively. "Do you like horses?"

"Oh, I love them," Anna nodded eagerly. "I even saw a real one on the trip to the space port back at home."

"You've never ridden one?" Saber asked surprised.

"No, I'm a city girl," she said sadly. "Never even touched one."

"Then you must sign up for riding lessons when we get to the school," Saber recommended. "You'll love it."

"There are horses at the school?"

She'd be beautiful when she grew up. Her smile lit up her entire face.

"Lots of them," Saber found himself smiling back without an effort this time. "It's Cavalry Command, after all."

There were two identical looking boys at the moving belt that carried out the luggage.

"Just a moment, Anna," Saber excused himself and walked over to them. "Hello, are you Hassan and Hussain Ahmeidi?"

"Yes, why?" The boy had a strong accent, so Saber assumed he didn't mean to be rude. His English was probably just bad.

"I'm Captain Rider from the Star Sheriff Academy. I was asked to pick you up."

"You're from the school?" another boy asked. "Can I ride with you, too? I'm Nanouk Little Bear."

"Of course, Nanouk. We've been looking for you as well."

"Look, Mr Rider! I found it! Here it is!"

"That's wonderful Anna," Saber replied suppressing a sigh. He liked talking to the children as long as he could do so one at a time, but juggling several of them, each with a different problem, at once was rather taxing. "Do you three have all your luggage?"

"Lug?" one of the twins asked.

"Luggage," Saber repeated. "Suitcases."

"Bags," Nanouk gestured to his own suitcase. "You have all bags with your things?"

"Yes, all bags," the twin nodded. "All things here."

"Very good," Saber declared. "Then we go to the car now and put the bags in the car. Follow me."

Should he have taken a course in Arabic sometime?

The car was a large hover-van which was meant to be able to carry up to twelve people. Still, with two more passengers still to come and all the luggage it would be a tight fit, but Saber supposed that ten slim teenagers should fit anyway. Max at 15 was the oldest and could ride in front with him and if worse came to worst Jose and perhaps even Anna could sit in the lap of one of the older students.

Max looked a lot less pale than when Saber had first seen him and he and Ian seemed to have hit it off right away. Saber wished he knew what classes they'd been assigned to. Their chances of being in the same one were probably slim as there were 18 of them.

"Now we just have to wait for Liu Chang and Tuesday Omawombe," he declared once all the luggage had been squeezed into the trunk. The rest would have to fit in with the students somehow. "Have any of you seen a possibly Chinese girl or a black boy?"

"Yes," Jose piped up. "The police took Liu."

"Customs officers, Jose," Ian corrected. "They're called customs officers."

"I know, Jose," Saber acknowledged. "But has anyone seen her come out of customs?"

They shook their heads.

"Then I'll just go back inside and keep an eye on the customs sector," he decided. "Maybe Tuesday is there as well."

To his surprise all of the students opted to come along. So he locked up the car and took them to a group of benches in the waiting hall where they would be a little more comfortable.

"This is boring," Nanouk complained after a while.

"And to think that I was worried you'd leave without me," Anna sighed.

"It won't be much longer," Davie promised. "The last shuttle should land any moment. Knowing Tuesday he's picked that one."

"I think it's exciting," said Jose. "Look at all the people!"

"We could play a game," Ian suggested. "Who can spot the most people wearing boots?"

"There's one!" Jose pointed. "And there and there ..."

"Over there!" Anna shouted. "The woman in the phone box."

"Attention travellers!" a voice rang through the hall. "Due to a technical defect shuttle flight 2986-8 will be delayed for about two hours. Attention travellers! ..."

"Oh no!" Davie groaned.

"We'll have to find out whether they're on that shuttle," Saber got up and walked over to the information desk.

He had to stand in line for several minutes, but finally it was his turn.

"I'm Captain Rider of Cavalry Command ..." he introduced himself. Hopefully his Star Sheriff ID would be sufficient proof that he was entitled to information about the whereabouts of two teenage passengers.

"That Captain Rider?" the woman behind the glass gasped.

"Yes, that Captain Rider." He was used to such reactions and tried not to let it bother him.

"Oh, that's so cool!" the woman exclaimed. "I'm Angela."

"Pleased to meet you, Angela. Do you happen to have a passenger list of the delayed shuttle?"

"Well, yes. But I can't give it to you. The privacy of the travellers, you know."

"That's okay," Saber assured her. "I don't need to see it. I just need to know whether a Miss Liu Chang and Mr. Tuesday Omawombe are on board." He flashed her his most charming smile and it seemed to work. Some of Colt's tactics had their uses, he had to admit.

"Yes, Mr. Omawombe is on the list," Angela reported after checking on her computer screen. "I couldn't find Miss Chang, though."

"I see. Thank you, Angela. You've been a great help." Saber risked another smile.

A tired looking Asian girl had joined the group when he returned and Ian and Max had disappeared.

"We found Liu, Teacher!" Jose reported excitedly. "The police let her go."

"They found the insulin pills in my suitcase and thought I might be smuggling drugs," Liu Chang explained. "I showed them my prescription, but they insisted on analysing the pills to check whether they were really insulin. I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting."

"It's not your fault." Saber assured her. "If you need your medication, you obviously had to bring it and customs has the right to check it. And you're not the only one holding us up anyway. We're still waiting for Tuesday Omawombe who's stuck in the space ship because of technical problems."

"Oh no! You mean we're stuck here playing spotting games for two more hours?" Anna groaned.

"Maybe not," Saber said. "I'll have to check with the school first. If the next car can take Mr. Omawombe, we might be able to leave now. Did you take Liu's luggage to the car already?"

"Max took her backpack," Davie reported. "And Ian's looking for her suitcase."

"Okay, when he returns put it in the car, then wait here for me," Saber decided handing Davie the keys. "Don't run off. With a little luck we'll be able to leave right after I make a little phone call."

The first phone he tried turned out to be broken, but then another booth became free and he dialled through to the headmaster's office right away. It was against protocol, but he knew that General Witehawke wasn't likely to be in his office.

Indeed it was his secretary who answered the call.

"Hi Molly," he greeted her. "This is Saber. I'm still at the space port, I'm afraid one of the students' flight will be two hours late. Is there any chance one of the other cars could pick him up?"

"Just let me check the schedule," Molly sounded exhausted.

Saber wondered just how many students were waiting in front of her desk as they talked. The poor woman had more work today than the headmaster himself. Not only the registering of all the incoming students, but also the organisation and co-ordination of their arrival, classes, dorms and schedules rested on her shoulders. Every skinned knee, every lost suitcase, every broken window and every late flight would be taken straight to her.

"I'm sorry, Saber, but the next car isn't due for another three hours, Peter's called in sick and I have a suspected case of measles on my hands as well as Miss Eagle who just brought back two students that somehow ended up onboard Ramrod."

"In the high security hangar?" Saber couldn't believe it.

"Yes, we're still trying to figure out how they got past security."

"I see." Saber decided to leave this in April's capable â€“ and still authorised â€“ hands. "Isn't there any way to move Friday Omawombe to that next car? I've got a hyperactive ten year old, a grumpy teenager and a space-sick young man as well as six other kids waiting impatiently to get to the school and no more breathing room in the car already."

"We can't abandon a student at the space port for an entire hour," Molly returned. "He'll panic, if there's nobody there to meet him. You'll just have to sit this one out, Saber. Just ... play with the kids, teach them marching songs, tell them war stories. You're a big hero, after all. They'll love hearing all about your adventures."

Saber returned to nine very expectant faces and had to dash their hopes.

"We have to stay," he told them.

Disappointed moans from every direction.

"So, why don't we use this time to get to know each other better?" he suggested.

The doctor would be so proud of him, if he could see him now, he thought. He had told him to loosen up after all, hadn't he? Well, he'd just have to play cool teacher for this bunch of kids.

Hell, he'd be dealing with classes of 40 students each starting tomorrow. He couldn't afford to be unable to handle nine.

"Lets make friends and tell each other about ourselves. Who we are, why we are here, what we like and dislike." Now he was even beginning to talk like the doctor! "I'll start: My name's Saber, I'm from the highlands ..."

"Wait a minute! You're Saber Rider?" There were excited squeals all around. Trust Molly and her decades of experience handling children. "Why are you teaching at the Academy? Why aren't you on Ramrod anymore?"

"Whoa, calm down," It wasn't all that hard to laugh at their reaction. "Yes, I'm Saber Rider. Ramrod's currently undergoing an upgrade and maintenance work so most of the team have been assigned to the Academy in the meantime. So I guess that answers why I'm here. I like horses and fencing as well as history and poetry and dislike ... Well, don't tell anyone, but I really hate doctors and hospitals."

They laughed at that. Good, let them think he'd just made that up to amuse them.

"So who's next?" he asked looking around.

"Me!" squealed Jose excitedly. "I'm Jose Gomez and I'm from New New Mexico. My father's General Gomez. I'm ten years old and here to go to school here and become a Star Sheriff just like my Dad. I really really love video games and shooting and hate Math."

"I'm Ian Doe. I was found on the steps of St. Florian's orphanage when I was only a few hours old. My parents probably abandoned me there, because I appeared to be deaf. I've got a hearing aid implanted in each ear, though and with those my hearing's almost normal."

Saber got the impression that there was more to the story, but didn't want to push Ian into telling them anything he didn't want to. He hated it when the doctor did it to him and they were all strangers to Ian anyway. Why should he have to tell them anything at all?

"I'm here because I want to become a special agent for Cavalry Command. Orphans are very good for that, because they don't have any family who might dig too deeply into what they do. It's easy to give us completely new identities. I always loved helping out with the other kids at the orphanage, especially the very little ones and I don't like hospitals either." He smiled at Saber. "They might have fixed my hearing problem, but I guess I just had to spend too much time there."

"I'm Max Hartford and I'm from Courtery. That's a really backwater mining planet. I wouldn't be surprised, if none of you had even heard of it. I went through all nine years of school there, then meant to get a job at the mine my father worked in, but four months ago they closed the mine. It just didn't produce enough ore anymore. My father tried to get work at one of the other mines, but most of them are reducing production. Unless they find a new profitable layer of ore soon they'll probably all close down. So Dad decided I'd better do something else with my life. Becoming a Star Sheriff means another year of schooling before I can send home money, but Star Sheriffs will always be needed, even if Courtery dies out completely. I like reading and drawing and hate job interviews."

"Nanouk Little Bear. I know that's a weird name. It's my parents' fault. My father's an Indian. That's where I got the last name from. And my mother's an Eskimo who thought it would be fun to name me Nanouk, which means bear in her language. So now I'm stuck going through life as Bear Little Bear. I went to our local high school for the last three years and thought everything was going fine, but all of a sudden my mother wants to return to the Eskimo reservation and raise me in the traditional style. Dad on the other hand wants me to become a computer programmer. I think they packed me off to boarding school so they can divorce in peace. I love computers and loud music and currently absolutely hate my parents."

"I'm Davie Quinto. I've been going to school here since I was ten, so why not do the Academy when I'm already here? A lot of people want to apply for the Academy every year and their parents won't let them. So if I already have the chance ..." he shrugged. Apparently Davie had no idea why he was attending the Academy himself. "I love exciting action movies and absolutely hate sentimental love stories."

Saber was beginning to wonder whether any of them were really convinced of what they were doing. He remembered all the youthful idealism he'd arrived at the Academy with, his deep conviction that he was doing the right thing. Were these children all so empty of dreams that they were just drifting wherever life swept them, or did they have the right idea? Were they more realistic than he had been at their age? Would any of them ever end up with a psychologist telling them to lighten up or give up their job?

"Anna Taylor. I'm here as punishment. I love animals, especially horses and hate being alone."

"You're not alone, Anna," Ian assured her. "We're here. We'll be your new friends."

"And you'll just love all the horses at the school," Davie promised.

"I still feel homesick already," Anna sighed and Liu and Ian each put an arm around her to comfort her.

They mightn't be idealistic, but they did have kind hearts, Saber thought. They probably would make good Star Sheriffs once they realised how much people relied on their protection. Maybe the idealism would come to them then. Perhaps he could help guide them to that realisation?

"I'm Liu Chang and I want to become a Star Sheriff because that's the absolutely coolest thing in the world. I ... I want to be a hero. That sounds really arrogant, doesn't it?"

"No," Saber shook his head. "It sounds very honest. I think a lot of students choose the Academy because of that. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a hero as long as you realise that that means putting other people's lives first."

Liu blushed. "Well, I love sports. I love winning. I hate ... my diabetes, I guess. It just seems like it always gets in my way. I've always got to watch out for it."

"I am Hassan Ahmeidi. I have a twin brother, Hussain. We are going to be Star Sheriffs." Hassan beamed at them proudly, but Saber was beginning to feel a touch of worry for the twins.

He couldn't be entirely sure, but he suspected that Hassan was the only one of the two who had spoken so far and his English seemed very poor. Would they even be able to follow their classes?

They continued by discussing favourite animals, games and colours, then Saber asked them whether they spoke any languages other than English. The result was disappointing except for the twins who reported that they knew some French and of course Arabic. Nanouk's Eskimo was less than fluent and Liu knew no Chinese at all.

"My grandmother was the last one in our family who really spoke Chinese," she told them. "It's practically a dead language anyway."

They practised singing the New Frontier hymn a few times when Saber ran out of introduction topics, then he taught them two marching songs he remembered from his own Academy days.

Ian knotted his jumper into a vaguely round shape which he announced to be a handball.

Saber considered forbidding the game, but he was out of alternative ideas and none of the other people in the waiting area looked bothered by it. A few even cheered them on and applauded particularly good throws. So Saber contented himself with demanding a time out whenever somebody walked past or through the makeshift playing field.

At least this activity finally gave the twins a chance to prove themselves. They were very fast and agile and laughed a lot when they weren't struggling to figure out what was going on around them.

 

There were loud cheers when Tuesday Omawombe's shuttle finally landed and its passengers started to emerge. Tuesday turned out to be a tall, strong boy who walked out at the end of the group of passengers very calmly.

Davie greeted him excitedly and pulled him towards the luggage all the time chatting at him eagerly.

"I'm not going to the Academy," Tuesday stated calmly, but firmly.

"Why ever not?" Davie asked sounding shocked.

"Why not?" Tuesday repeated. "Well, because I don't want to become a Star Sheriff," he explained gently and stepped back to let a frantic woman take his place at the moving belt.

"So what do you want to be?" Saber asked him to pass the time when it became clear that Tuesday intended to wait patiently until the rush for the luggage died down and he could reach his suitcase without having to push and shove for it.

"A priest," Tuesday answered calmly. "I want to spread peace and the word of God, not shoot and kill my fellow men."

"That's utter nonsense!" Davie protested. "You had the chance to become a hero and you just threw it away."

"I don't want to be a hero," Tuesday stated. "I want to be a priest and serve God."

"If that is what you feel you must do, then you should do it," Ian encouraged him before Davie could protest some more. "I'm sure it wasn't an easy choice. It must be a hard and often disappointing profession."

"It is my calling," Tuesday returned. "God will give me the strength to see it through."

"I admire your dedication, then," Ian said. "I could never be that strong."

"Strong?" Max snorted. "What could be so hard about being a priest?"

"It's very hard," Ian answered for Tuesday who had finally found an opening in the line at the luggage belt which nobody else seemed to want. "You can't ever have a family, or get angry at people. You always have to be helpful and understanding and put everybody else first. And people come to you with all their problems and expect you to help. Not just little problems either. Priests must help sick children prepare for death, for example. Or crippled people to accept that they'll never walk again. I couldn't do that. It'd break my heart to see them suffer."

"Ah, but I know that God will reward them in heaven," Tuesday said returning with his suitcase held easily by his side. "And by being with them and reminding them of that I can alleviate their suffering. That's why I want to become a priest."

Saber herded his group to the car and they piled into the back. Max sat in front with him and held Tuesday's suitcase between his legs and Liu's luggage ended up squeezed against the back of the front seats.

Tuesday, Ian, Davie and Nanouk somehow managed to stuff themselves onto the bench in the back with little Jose in Tuesday's lap.

The twins huddled together in the corner of the other bench and looked very uncomfortable at having to share it with Liu and Anna. Hassan did his best not to touch Liu any more than absolutely necessary.

"Lets sing something again," Ian suggested as Saber steered them out onto the overland road.

Liu immediately started in on one of the songs Saber had taught them, but Tuesday frowned unhappily. Clearly he didn't like marching songs.

Ian asked him to pick the next song and a loud 'Our father, who you are in heaven ...' soon rang out from the car much to the horror of Hassan and Hussain.

"We good Muslim," Hassan protested.

Unfortunately nobody else knew the Arabic song he picked next, but they all assured the twins that it had been very beautiful to listen to.

The popular lewd love song Anna chose for them caused both twins to blush deep red, Saber to frown disapprovingly and Tuesday to hastily cover Jose's ears with his hands.

Ian quickly slipped in a simple children's song claiming that they needed something easy they all knew and they finally reached the checkpoint at the base's main gates to a slow, sad song that Max declared was his father's favourite.

The guard smiled at them and returned Saber's papers after only a glance.

"Nice kids," he commented and waved them through.

One of the high school teachers practically tore the car keys out of Saber's hand shouting something about needing to get to the train station and, suddenly carless, Saber decided to personally escort his group to Molly's office.

Things seemed to have calmed down a lot since he'd spoken to her on the phone. Currently Molly was busy fussing over a little boy with a nosebleed while two slightly pale looking older students were waiting in the headmaster's office.

"Are those the two April caught?"

"Yes, I only just managed to get rid of her," Molly sighed. "She's taking it much too seriously, if you ask me."

"Ramrod is her baby," Saber tried to explain. "And much too dangerous to be used as a toy."

"Still she shouldn't have threatened them with execution," Molly insisted. "Now, who do we have here?"

The twins looked horrified when they found out that they'd been assigned to different dorms and classes.

"It will be easier for you to make new friends and get used to speaking English, if you aren't always together," Molly explained.

Hussain looked so desperate that Saber worried he might burst into tears at any moment, but he just nodded and accepted his key. At least he was going to share the room with Ian, Max and Davie. Saber quietly made eye contact with Ian and nodded towards Hussain. Ian nodded in confirmation. Of course he'd watch over the twin. Ian was the type of boy who took care of everybody. He'd make a good officer someday, Saber expected.

Hassan's room wasn't even on the same floor, though. Tuesday promised to show him the way, as it was close to his own room, but those 14 year old boys not joining the Academy traditionally shared a room of their own and it was obvious that Tuesday didn't like the twins all that much.

Saber could only hope that Hassan would make friends with his dorm mates quickly. At least he was the more outgoing twin.

Liu just snorted at the notion that she might need help finding her room and indeed was off in the direction of the girls' dorms within moments after they'd entered the student's quarters.

Davie and Tuesday were both familiar with the building and thus Saber was left with only Anna and Jose to take up into the high school dorms. He knew where those were, of course, but had never visited them before.

He'd attended a military high school at home in the highlands before joining the academy and had never seen a reason to climb that last flight of stairs into the younger students' domain.

Still, the rooms ought to be numbered just the same and since he had both a boy and a girl he'd have one on each side of the stairs anyway, so he couldn't even accidentally pick the wrong corridor.

Like Fireball he expected to find the girls' dorms on the right corridor, but ended up outside Jose's room after only a few steps.

Well, it didn't matter. He asked Anna to wait for him and carried Jose's suitcase in for the boy. Four pairs of eyes regarded him curiously.

"Don't mind me," he told them. "I'll be gone in a second. I'll just leave your suitcase right here, okay, Jose?"

"Great. Thank you, Sir," Jose waved good bye cheerily.

"Was that your Dad?" a high boyish voice asked behind Saber as he left, but he didn't stop to hear Jose's answer.

 

April was getting seriously annoyed with the Academy being so close to the hangar. Sure, it was nice that her team-mates were close by despite their currently separate assignments, but curious students kept interrupting her work - and she had rarely enjoyed a task more than this.

She didn't get to cooperate and exchange ideas with other engineers nearly often enough and this was the first time that she was completely in charge of such a project. She really wished she could be doing it on some other planet, though.

Of course she would have had to leave 'the boys' for the time, but getting to study the plans in peace would really have been worth it.

Besides there was Dr. Toleda who'd been just about to explain his theory about the principle behind the Outriders' dimension-jumping technology, when those two idiotic students had interrupted them. If he was right this would hugely improve the odds in the next Outrider war. Imagine being able to carry the war back into the vapour zone and have them suffer at least part of the damage for once!

But what if he was wrong? The only way to test it was to try it out with a manned ship. What if they lost it?

And what if it worked and the ship was attacked by the Outriders the moment it arrived? Ramrod could defend itself against quite a number of Outriders for the few seconds it would take to initiate a return jump, but a small scientific test vessel probably wouldn't stand a chance.

Having to jump up and evict intruders every few minutes really wasn't helping her think this through and it made discussing the theory itself completely impossible.

Of course those interruptions would have to stop when it became time for General WhiteHawk's introductory speech, but April had promised Fireball she'd be there to support him because he was nervous about his new role and Colt had hinted that it would do Saber good if the whole team was there together, even though April didn't actually have anything to do with the affair.

April didn't see why. It wasn't like the crowded formal event was the sort of situation where Saber would be likely to confide any private worries to anybody.

"And if I ever see either of you around here again, I'll have you arrested!" she shouted after the latest pair of gawking idiots.

Then she turned around to go back to her work.

"Excuse me, Miss," a small voice piped up. "Is this the right way to the girls' dorms? And is there a bathroom somewhere nearby? I really, really need to go."

April sighed, but what could she do? Leave the child to soil herself right in front of the hangar door?

"No, it isn't. It's a restricted area where actual grown up Star Sheriffs are trying to do their jobs!" she snapped. "But I suppose since it is so urgent you can come in and use our bathroom just this once."

She took the girl by the hand and led her there, then went to the nearest phone to call Molly again.

"I'm really sorry," she told the secretary hastily. "But I've got another child here that I'll have to lead back to the academy, and probably right into her dorm considering the scouting skills she's shown so far. Could you please tell Fireball that I won't be able to make it to the introduction? I'll have to stay here and make up the lost time."

 

Fireball wasn't at all pleased to hear that April wasn't coming. He was already annoyed because he'd found out that he had given wrong directions to at least two students and now this! Unlike April he had never attended the Academy himself and wasn't familiar with its rules and exact layout.

Considering that the same was also true for Colt April's non-appearance meant that they'd both have to rely on Saber for guidance through the introduction and dinner, despite the fact that both Colt and the psychologist had told him that Saber needed a rest from all the responsibilities he had as team leader and that he should try to lean on somebody else whenever possible.

Fireball didn't like the implication that he was weak and needed more support than Colt and April, but right now, well, who wouldn't be out of his depth under the circumstances?

As a last resort before turning to Saber he went to find Colt after all. This too proved more difficult than expected. After a long trek though what had to be every corridor in the school and dorms he finally found the cowboy outside, leaning against the wall, when he went to check the outbuildings.

"Hey Colt!" he called out. "What are you doing here?" It seemed an odd place to stand around, not at all comfortable or pretty.

"Oh nothing, just, you know, standing around serving as a mobile information desk."

What? Fireball stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"It's a pretty simple job," Colt explained. "Not strenuous at all. Almost all the kids that come past this spot are looking for Molly's office or the dorms. I just tell them to go into this building. The rest want to know what the other buildings are for and I tell them they have no business in them yet and had better get back inside and unpack."

What was even more amazing was that Colt also turned out not to have the slightest problem finding their way to the introduction ceremony. Once there he simply strolled onto the podium where Saber and the other teachers were standing.

Fireball followed.

"Where's April?" Saber asked right away.

Colt shrugged and looked at Fireball.

"Not coming," he said a little sulkily. "Apparently she can't leave Ramrod after all."

"Ah well, it's not like she needs any of the information."

"Do ..." Fireball started and then remembered too late that he wasn't supposed to lean on Saber. Oh well, it was too late now anyway. Better to continue than to leave that one word hanging in the air like that. "Do we have to do anything in particular here?"

"No, just listen attentively, look responsible." That had to be aimed at Colt, Fireball decided. "And maybe call the students to order, if they misbehave or get too loud. With so many teachers here we probably won't be called on to do that last part, though."

That was a relief, because one group had just broken out into uproarious shouting and laughter. Fireball didn't think he wanted to have to deal with those louts.

Indeed just as Saber had predicted one of the older teachers stepped up to the microphone and requested silence looking pointedly at the group. The level of noise reduced, but it didn't go away completely. Remembering similar scenarios at his own high school Fireball thought that this must be a satisfactory result, but to his surprise Colt slipped past and walked to the front of the podium stopping at exactly the height where the troublemakers were assembled.

"Cadets Evans and Jonasson! In case you hadn't noticed the professor meant you," he snapped in a completely unfamiliar tone of authority. "Now, if you would kindly leave the younger students alone and be silent, General WhiteHawk could give us all some important information."

"I'm just ..." a tall boy with died hair who was wearing his scarf tied around his head defended himself.

"I don't care what you were doing," Colt snapped. "Let go of that boy! Now!"

Fireball hadn't even noticed that the boy was holding a smaller student's arm twisted behind his back.

"Sorry." He let go of the child and frowned at Colt.

"And I thought I'd already told you that we have a dress code here," Colt continued just as sharply.

"What? We're wearing the regulation uniform!"

"If you take a look at your fellow students, you might notice a difference in exactly how you're wearing it. Considering that this is your first day, though, I assume you did try and are merely too stupid to know how you are supposed to wear your scarves."

The other students laughed. The tall one glared at Colt, but his friend blushed and hastily untied his own scarf.

"Sorry, Sir. We didn't mean any harm. We were just fooling around."

Colt nodded at him. "Well, Mr. Evans. We're waiting."

Fireball was completely surprised. He'd never considered Colt a bully before, but this seemed to go a little too far. Obviously his new teacher status was going to Colt's head. Why didn't Saber step in?

But not only did Saber not make any move to interfere, the other teachers didn't react either. Should he? Or was there some unwritten rule against admonishing another teacher in the presence of the students?

When Colt returned to his former place in the back Fireball sidled up to him.

"Was that scene really necessary? You ridiculed those two poor students in front of the whole school."

"They were bullying the high-schoolers," Colt returned. "And they like provoking people. The last thing we need is for them to become role-models for the others. Though I admit it might not have been fair to Jonassen. From what I've seen so far Evans is the problem case here."

"But ... That's just what kids do, Colt. It's harmless fun that teaches children to stand up for themselves. Unless of course somebody always intercedes on their behalf and they never have to. And snapping at them over clothes? That's not like you."

"We're teachers at this school now, Fireball, and this school has a very strict dress code that we are expected to enforce. If we're lax about it now, it'll be much harder to stop them when they go too far. And as for learning to stand up for themselves ... Well, there was a boy at my high school that got bullied all the time because he was smaller than his classmates. He wasn't in my year so I never knew until ... Well, nobody ever helped him and they kept telling him he had to stand up for himself. So one day he tried to fight back - against four boys all taller than himself. They grabbed him, tied his hands behind his back with his own scarf and threw him into a garbage can. Just then the garbage truck arrived, though and the bullies ran off. The garbage men couldn't hear the boy's screams over the noise of their truck and poured the contents of that garbage can straight into the garbage press. By the time they saw him he was quite dead of course."

Fireball paled. "Alright, that's horrible. But it was an accident."

"The point is," Colt said. "Standing up for himself only got him stuffed into a garbage can. It didn't make the bullies back off. If there had been no accident all he would have learned is that standing up for yourself only makes things worse."

"But Colt ..."

"Shush, the General's about to speak."

Fireball looked to Saber for help, but he only nodded towards WhiteHawk who had indeed just begun his speech. It was utterly boring, but everybody around him seemed to be highly interested, including not only the ever-serious Saber, but even the cowboy.

The speech was followed by various organisational announcements and explanations of rules and then the students got to ask questions which were even more boring.

Colt once again stepped forward when somebody asked when they'd get to shoot something.

"You get to gloriously shoot a wooden target as soon as I say you're ready and not one moment sooner."

"Oh really?" The boy with the died hair demanded.

"Yes, really, Cadet Evans," Colt confirmed. "You might of course choose to shoot without my permission, but that will be the last thing you ever do on my shooting range and quite possibly in this school as well."

"What's gotten into Colt?" Fireball asked Saber.

Saber shrugged.

"He's got the students well in hand in any case," commented one of the older teachers. "Which is a relief. You probably have no idea of all the things that can go wrong when they get out of hand on the shooting range."

"It definitely sounds dangerous," Saber agreed. "And nobody knows better that guns aren't toys than Colt."

Fireball felt very grateful that his subject at least wasn't dangerous. What could possibly go wrong in driving lessons after all?

 

"Now I finally understand why it's called a mess," Fireball commented when they entered.

Saber looked around and tried to view the familiar scene from a stranger's perspective. To him it looked like 'home' or at least a version thereof, but Fireball seemed to see only chaos. What about Colt? Did he need help as well?

No, there he was sorting out a line to the trays that wouldn't block the way of the students returning from the salad bar.

"Colt seems to have that under control in any case," Saber told Fireball. "Shall we ..."

"Sir!" something small squeaked, streaked past him and attached itself to Fireball's leg.

Fireball blinked down at it looking just as surprised as Saber.

"Hannah!" he exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing ... I just ..." she was clearly forcing back tears. What in the world was wrong with her? She looked to be about ten years old at the most. Ten year olds were supposed to be happy and excited at all times, weren't they? "Can I sit with you?"

Fireball looked appealingly at Saber.

"We're here to supervise the meal, not eat ourselves. We can't just sit down with the students," he informed his friend.

"Don't you want to sit with your dorm mates?" Fireball asked the girl. "I'm sure they want to get to know you."

Good move, but the little girl was shaking her head and tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Saber looked around for a group that looked to be in her year, but another desperate voice demanded his attention.

"Captain Rider! Captain Rider!" Saber turned to deal with Anna first.

"Their table's full," Hannah sobbed behind him while Anna chattered away excitedly. She'd seen the horses, but now she couldn't find her dorm mates in all this confusion. "They ... met some boys who're probably in our class and decided to sit with them. And there's no chair left for me! And I don't know anybody else. Please, let me sit with you."

"Captain Rider! Where Hassan?"

"I'm supposed to watch all the students, Hannah. I can't sit down with any one group," Fireball assured the little girl desperately while Saber looked around trying to catch a glimpse of the missing twin and dorm mates whose faces he hardly remembered. "Don't cry, you're a big girl, aren't you. We'll find you some new friends then. I think those two have lost their groups as well. Right Saber?"

"Hi, Captain Rider!"

Oh no, not another ... Oh wait! It was Jose. And over there ...

"Hussain, I think I just saw Hassan in the food line!" Saber pointed at the spot, though a taller boy was blocking his view now. "Hello Jose."

"Hi there," Ah Fireball had figured it out as well. "Looking for a friend? Hannah here is a little shy and could use someone her age to show her around."

Jose looked at the tearful face doubtfully.

"Hello, Hannah. I'm Saber Rider, pleased to meet you."

"Hi," Hannah whispered but smiled at him. Now how to get Jose to take her under his wing?

"All those new people are confusing, huh?" he offered.

Hannah nodded.

"I promise you that they get a lot less scary once you know them. Fireball and I can't stay with you right now, but ..."

"Captain Rider!" Hassan and Hussain had apparently found each other, but they didn't look happy. "We good Muslim! No eat pork!"

Oh dear! Hadn't anybody thought of that? Saber cast a desperate glance at Fireball. They couldn't abandon either Hannah or the twins, but Fireball looked just as frightened and pleading as the children and mouthed 'I don't know what to do.'

Unfortunately neither did Saber, even though as team leader he knew he was supposed to. Just why hadn't April come? Where were she and Colt when you needed them? Without a conscious decision he once again suppressed his own confusion, helplessness and irrational anger at his absent friends. He had to take control of this like he did in a battle situation.

"Fireball," he started in his command tone, but just then Ian Doe stepped forward.

"Don't worry, Sir," he said smiling happily and nodded towards Hannah. "Jose and I will take care of this one, won't we Jose? I'm sure we'll become great friends."

All of a sudden Jose was beaming enthusiastically. "Oh yes, come on Hannah! You've just got to meet Max!"

Saber and Fireball were left to stare after them.

"Don't worry," Ian repeated. "I'll make sure he doesn't ignore her. I have a lot of experience with new children at the orphanage. Hannah will be fine."

Well, that was one problem off the list.

"I'm sorry, Anna," Saber told the other girl. "I'm afraid I'll have to see to the problem with the food. Why don't you too go and sit with Ian's group for today, though? And you can tell me all about your first day when we have a little more time tomorrow."

Then he turned back to the twins. "Are you sure there is no alternative dish? Maybe some of the others will trade you some more dumplings for your meat."

"Ian say no must eat too. Say doctor forbid. And Bran say make him feel sick. Pork really bad. We glad Mohamed forbid faithful eat."

"It really isn't very healthy," Saber had to admit. "It's too fat. That's probably what Ian and that other boy meant." But that wouldn't fill the poor twins' stomachs. "There always used to be a vegetarian option. That was usually acceptable to everybody that didn't like the primary offer." Why him? Why now when he was already struggling so hard to obey the doctor's orders? "Didn't Molly give you a little card to show the cook when you get your food? It used to be called a vegetarian pass, I think."

Hassan and Hussain shook their heads. As did the crowd of other students that had gathered around them, apparently all thoroughly disgusted with the pork on their plates.

"It doesn't show the sugar content anywhere either," Liu complained. "I asked the cook, but she doesn't know. How can she not know when she's the one that puts it in? I can't monitor my sugar intake this way."

Ask the cook? That sounded like a reasonable thing to do about the Muslims' plight as well.

"Have any of you asked the cook for vegetarian food?" he asked the gathered students. "No? Well, then I'll do that now."

He squeezed through Colt's lines earning a mild glare from the cowboy because of the disturbance that caused. He returned an apologetic and somewhat helpless shrug and moved on.

Unfortunately the cook wasn't the good natured, motherly old woman from his own student days, but a rotund and red-faced middle-aged stranger.

"Vegetarian food?" she scoffed when he explained his errand. "Whatever nonsense will those arrogant brats demand next? I cook good, strengthening, healthy food, that's actually good for people, not diet meals for rabbits. And children are to eat what's put in front of them. When I was a kid we knew our place! Ungrateful little beasts."

And she clearly didn't believe in religious tolerance or doctors who didn't agree with her views on the healthy effect of pork either.

Saber returned to the growing crowd of discontented students in defeat.

"I'm afraid there is no other option today," he told them. "You'll just have to eat what you can of what you've been given. Maybe take some extra slices of bread and more salad. I'll do what I can to arrange something in time for tomorrow."

The students dispersed slowly and grumbling to each other, but at least they went away. Saber didn't feel very heroic right now.

"Do you see Molly anywhere?" he whispered to Fireball. "If anyone can fix this, it's her."

"No," Fireball returned sounding just as helpless. "Maybe we should try Colt? He's looking so smug. I think he needs a bigger challenge."

Indeed the cowboy was leaning lazily against the wall next to the door merely pointing the new arrivals towards the lines he'd arranged.


	3. Secundember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here we are: Lessons actually start, but the results aren't quite as expected.

Chapter 3: Secundember

 

Fireball was quite excited to give his first driving lesson. He felt a little worried that he had failed completely as a teacher the day before, but then it had been his very first day and as a Driving instructor he was only supposed to deal with one student at a time not the whole Academy at once.

Besides even Saber hadn't made much of a difference in the mess and he was familiar with the school and its rules. If Saber didn't know what to do, how could anybody else?

If only Colt hadn't been so surprisingly competent and ... well, leaderly. That was embarrassing. After all he was the one that wanted to become a team leader someday and not Colt.

But of course leading a team of reasonable adults had to be different from wrangling a school full of students. Yes, of course it would be. After all Saber was the best team leader ever and he hadn't done nearly as well as Colt.

Still it was a little confusing that all of a sudden there was something that Saber wasn't perfect at - and Colt was.

Of course Saber couldn't be the best at everything and Fireball had always known that Colt was much better at shooting. But shooting was Colt's speciality and Saber was pretty good with a blaster as well.

There was no conceivable reason why Colt should be better at managing hordes of children! ... Oh well, it would probably turn out soon enough that while he was good at silencing and organising them, he wasn't quite as competent at actually teaching them something.

Fireball on the other hand was determined to be great now that he'd be dealing with only one student at a time.

He found his first student already leaning leisurely against the car when he arrived. The posture vaguely reminded Fireball of Jesse Blue, but he suppressed that thought quickly.

"So, you're Cadet Evans?"

"Yeah, wanna make something of it?"

Huh? "Merely sure that you're the student I'm looking for. I see you've found the car alright in any case," Fireball chatted lightly hoping to diffuse the tension.

"It wasn't exactly difficult," Cadet Evans sneered at him.

Fireball decided to give up on the small talk and handed him the car keys instead. "Well, then lets get in and see how you do."

"I don't need this, you know," Evans informed him once they were inside. "I know how to drive."

"Good," Fireball said delightedly. "That will spare us some work then. Not time, though, I'm afraid, because there's a mandatory number of lessons you need to get your license."

"So just how fast can this baby go?" Cadet Evans asked starting the car and flooring the gas pedal at the same time.

"Noooo!!!!"

By the end of the first lesson Fireball was unsure whether his student had learned anything at all, but he certainly knew why he'd been assigned a special driving school car with an additional set of pedals on the instructor's side. He wished it had a second steering wheel as well!

He welcomed his next student with a stern glare.

"Cadet Hartford?"

"Yes, Sir!" the cadet replied promptly standing to attention.

"Let me make one thing clear from the start: You are to always observe the legal speed limits during our lessons and before you do anything at all, you ask me for permission."

"Yes, Sir! ... Um ... I don't know anything at all about driving, you know. My father couldn't ... that is we never had a car, Sir."

"Well, that's fine, Cadet," Fireball secretly breathed a sigh of relief. "This is driving lessons, not the actual exam. Let's get in the car and I'll show you how to start it."

This lesson turned out to be a lot more successful, though awfully boring.

 

It was embarrassing. Saber was an experienced team leader in all sorts of battle situations. So why could he not command his students' attention in a simple class where there were no gun shots, explosions, screams or Outrider soldiers to distract them?

Oh well, he'd deal with it. He had to after all. Suppressing the hurt and anger he felt he calmly turned off the projector and got up. Calm and in control, that's how he always had taken charge in battle.

"Now listen here," he told the class. "I know that this isn't the most exciting topic, but I can tell you from practical experience that it is highly useful in the field. This knowledge can save your life, the lives of your team mates, or those of some innocent civilians that happen to get in the way of an Outrider attack."

"The Outriders are gone!" a student shouted out without raising his hand first.

But at least he had been listening.

"Please raise your hand and wait until I call on you, if you want to speak, Cadet," Saber said patiently.

The student rolled his eyes and repeated "They are gone and in the past. And I'm sure it was really great fun fighting them, but it's over. We never will fight Outriders. We don't need those skills anymore, or lessons from some old has-been like you."

"Fun? Do you ..." Saber started but now Liu Chang came to his defence.

"But does it really make a difference whether it's an Outrider attack or just a gang of outlaws terrorising some backwater settlement? So far all we've heard in this class was what weapons we most likely will be equipped with and what they are for. None of it was Outrider specific."

"But it's all nonsense. Why should we ever need to repair a blaster? If it breaks during a battle we won't have the time," somebody else argued. "We'll need to use another weapon."

"Besides, no gang of outlaws is as big as a whole army. We'll have them rounded up easily before it ever comes to that."

"Please raise your han..."

But nobody was listening to Saber at all anymore, though they were at least talking about the subject. Still, how to re-establish discipline?

Before he could think of any measures to take however, the bell rang and the students grabbed their bags and rushed out without waiting to be dismissed.

"I sorry, Captain Rider," the last one to leave said. "They bad. No listen to teachers."

"Thank you, Cadet Ahmeidi," Saber said with an encouraging smile. "But you'd better go after them and try to make some friends. You'll be lonely, if all your friends are in other classes."

Hassan nodded. "I try friend with Liu. No like others. Brother Hussain class much more nice people."

Well, hopefully it really was just the class and his next lesson would go better. Maybe if he started with a discussion of the subject itself, he'd be able to keep both control and their interest?

 

Colt was a little disquieted by what he'd seen of the students so far. They were fourteen, almost adults, but the way they acted and talked seemed so very childish. Surely he hadn't been this immature at their age?

Was it really responsible to teach them how to handle weapons or drive and send them out to fight in only one year? Would they really be ready?

Of course the war was over and hopefully they wouldn't have to face Outrider soldiers any time soon, but a human outlaw could kill you just as well as an alien soldier. A gunshot didn't care who'd fired it or why. If it hit you in the wrong place, you were dead.

Was it possible that the end of the war and constant fear it brought had affected the speed at which children matured so quickly? It had been less than a year since the battle of Yuma. These cadets had been at least 13 at the time, well old enough to be aware of the danger they were living in one would expect.

How could it be that children born only a year earlier than them had reached the maturity required by the time they were fourteen and they had not?

And then he remembered the first time he'd come here, the few little guest lectures he'd given, the way the students had handled the guns, Jesse Blue's clumsy attempts to woo April, the way he'd attacked her and then run off in a sulk. Jesse had joined the Outriders in a god-damned fit of childish sulkiness!

He hadn't been any more mature than Evans and Jonassen. In fact, yes, this was exactly why Evans' behaviour needed to be checked. If he didn't adjust his attitude, he might well become the next Jesse Blue.

'Not this time,' Colt decided. 'I'm going to save Evans from himself even if he hates me forever for it.'

The cadets of the past had not been any more mature than the current ones, Colt just hadn't seen it as clearly back then. Hadn't seen it, because he hadn't been all that mature himself, yet. Maybe it wasn't only the cadets that shouldn't have been sent out there to fight Outriders, maybe he himself shouldn't have either. Nor Fireball or April. He wasn't even sure about Saber anymore.

Saber was the oldest of their team and had always been the most mature and serious. Maybe he really had been all grown up when Colt had first met him, but then he'd been a spy for three years before that. Who knew how mature he'd been when he'd started that career.

And was it possible that his current psychological problems were in fact the result of having been too young to cope with his emotional reactions back then? Would he be fine, if only he'd had two or three more years of childhood?

Those were painful thoughts, but Colt realised that he could not give those extra years to anyone. Fifteen year olds were legally adults and they wouldn't give up that status without a fight if politicians tried to change the law. For such insignificant people as Colt, General WhiteHawk or even Commander Eagle it would be fighting windmills.

So he went on with his usual carefree smile on the outside and a very heavy heart within. He didn't get any more time to ponder philosophical problems anyway.

"And bang! You're dead!"

Colt caught the boy's wrist and squeezed hard.

"Are you crazy? I'm about to hand out real, loaded blasters here. This is no time for little boys to play cowboys and indians!"

In fact he already had serious second thoughts about his lesson plan, but the armoury didn't contain any child-proof weapons.

"If I see one more student point anything at all at a classmate, I'll supply the lot of you with pop-guns instead. Then you can play around as much as you like."

Those would be useless for target practise, of course, but air guns and maybe also water pistols were definitely going onto the school's shopping list.

"Now, before we start let's review how to handle a gun. Where do you hold it? How do you carry it? Which parts do and don't you touch?"

The kids looked at him blankly, then at each other.

"Haven't you had the Gun Safety lecture, yet?" He'd thought that was why he hadn't been assigned an 8 am Shooting lesson today.

"Uh, well yes, but ..."

"You thought it was boring and you didn't want to hear it? Well, guess what, it's also important. Now, since you don't know the basic safety rules, you can't handle guns safely, and because you can't handle them safely, I can't hand them out to you. So instead of teaching you how to shoot, which you're probably all eager to learn, I will now give you ... another boring lecture on gun safety. I suggest this time you listen and take notes. We'll have a little test on it in our next lesson and you don't get to touch a real gun unless you pass that."

The kids' faces sure were a sight to see, but Colt too was deeply disappointed. Had his own gun safety lessons been equally unsuccessful as the ones his colleague was giving now?

 

April had rarely enjoyed anything more than her work on Ramrod once those pesky students had finally all been cleared out. Now that she could concentrate it wasn't at all hard to schedule the various work steps needed and Professor Toleda finally got to explain his fascinating theory as well.

"It's all still very much in the theoretical stage," he apologised. "I haven't even finished designing the machine, so nothing is tested. But well, you see, the only sure way to test it would be to actually make a jump and there's no telling where we'd come out. We should end up in the vapour zone if everything works out, but then we might well have Outriders on our tail before we can initiate the return jump. Obviously nobody will agree to fund such a risky experiment."

"Oh, but it might be just the advantage we need if the Outriders attack again," April assured him. "And we, that is, my father thinks that very likely. The last defeat has weakened them, but once they recover from it they will most likely try again. They've done it before after all. Being able to carry the war back to their own worlds would ... well, at the very least we could make them suffer as much as they do us. I'm sure, if only you had a well armed test vessel that could withstand the first onslaught Cavalry Command would be happy to fund you."

His eyes turned misty and longing whenever he spoke of it and April couldn't help being infected with his fascination with the idea.

"It's such advanced technology," she said admiringly. "So beautiful. And ah, all the possibilities. You know, I've always dreamed of exploring the physics of other dimensions. Maybe we could build entirely new machines there. Ones that would be impossible here."

"Do you really think so?"

His eyes, too were beautiful, especially when they lit up with excitement like this.

She was tempted to call the boys to cancel dinner with them, but then realised that it had been over a week since she'd actually seen them. They would probably be upset if she didn't show up and she ought to tell them about Dr. Toleda's theory. They wouldn't understand the scientific interest of it, or at least Fireball and Colt wouldn't. Saber might get the general idea, but he wouldn't understand the theory itself either.

What all three ought to understand easily enough however, was the strategical value of being able to jump dimensions. Surely they'd want it installed in Ramrod as much as April herself did.

Saber probably ought to know what she was up to before she requested permission to alter Ramrod yet again and include an untested technology, especially if they were going to be the ones to actually test it.

So reluctantly she closed up the hangar for the night and went. It didn't help that she hated the tiny kitchenette in the small flat the boys had taken for the duration of their teaching engagement at the academy. They could at least have afforded three separate flats, but Colt had objected to the idea claiming that they shouldn't be separated.

April didn't understand why they shouldn't but most of the time it was the boys' problem anyway, since she still lived in her familiar quarters on-board Ramrod.

The scene she found when she arrived wasn't at all what she'd expected either. Fireball opened the door for her looking uncharacteristically dejected.

"So," she asked lightly hoping to distract him from whatever had put him into such an unusual mood. "How's teaching?"

"Horrible," Fireball replied. "Either the students think they already know how to drive and ... well, don't, but insist on trying out racing anyway, or they don't know anything at all, which ... well, is safer, but boring. I wish they'd find some middle ground between giving me a heart attack and boring me to death."

"It's your attitude that's the problem," Colt looked up from a pile of papers, red pen hovering in his hand.

He was grading homework? Colt! Grading homework!

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard the whole speech before. I'm a racer and pilot, not a teacher. I just don't get any satisfaction out of teaching kids how to park a car. I can't wait until this year is finally over and we can get back to our real work."

"Teaching is real work, too, Fireball," Saber lectured him. "And highly important. We need our new Star Sheriffs well trained, for their own safety and that of the entire New Frontier."

"Ah, I can see you're doing well as a teacher," April laughed. "Am I right Saber?"

"Oh, well ... it's rather new to me as well. I'm still working on finding the best methods."

"Are you having trouble as well then?" Colt asked casually.

"What? Oh no, nothing that serious. I just realised some things would probably have worked better if I'd presented them differently. Haven't you experienced the same?"

Colt pondered this for a moment.

"I wouldn't have needed to prepare an actual shooting lesson for the first day if I'd been able to predict that they wouldn't remember a thing they'd been told in Gun Safety," he said then. "I should have prepared a test instead. Not that I think any of them would have passed and an unannounced test in the first lesson would probably have made me terribly unpopular, so it's quite alright as it is. What's your lesson then?" He looked at Saber expectantly.

"Not that you're exactly the most popular teacher in the school from what I hear," Fireball challenged.

Colt ignored him and kept looking at Saber.

"From what I've heard our colleagues say they might just give Colt a new teacher of the year award, if we had such a thing. They're quite impressed," Saber told Fireball.

"Not with my shopping list, though. I'm only getting ten of the forty air guns I asked for."

"Air guns," April gasped. "Whatever do you want those toys for?"

"Give target practise lessons to students who think the shooting range is a playground," Colt stated calmly. "If they want toys rather than treat their weapons seriously, then they can have toys. I did get all the water pistols I wanted." He smirked. "Unfortunately those are pretty useless for serious training. They'll do as a disciplinary measure, though."

"Colt, those classes are serious!" April exclaimed in horror. "Those are future Star Sheriffs! You can't treat them like children! Shooting is one of the most important skills they will need!"

"They are children," Colt snapped, sounding amazingly like Saber when he was scolding him for some stupid stunt. "We shouldn't be asking them to do the work of adults. We shouldn't send them out to be killed."

"They are no younger than we were and we did quite well, didn't we? They are almost adults!" But say what she might Colt persisted in his foolish claim that fourteen year olds were children and not mature enough to be given weapons and thanks to this nonsense she never got around to telling them anything about her own work or Dr. Toleda's fascinating theory.

It was the most disappointing dinner ever, though her expectations hadn't been very high.

 

"Oh Saber?" Molly called out as Saber passed her office one morning.

"Yes, Molly? What can I do for you?"

He stopped in the door not wanting to go in for a chat and risk losing the time he needed to set up for his lesson.

"When you drive over to the hospital today, could you take Ian Doe with you?" Molly shouted.

"Of course, Molly. Just tell him to meet me in the entrance hall," he called back trying to sound as natural as possible to cover his wince.

He should have gone in after all. If he had Molly wouldn't have shouted and most likely nobody would have overheard that he was going to the hospital.

Most likely nobody would wonder about it anyway, though, he tried to convince himself. There were lots of reasons to go to the hospital after all and most of them had nothing at all to do with psychologists. In fact, most of the students probably assumed that he was here because of a battle injury anyway.

That was the most common reason for a Star Sheriff still young enough for active duty to be teaching at the Academy. And of course he might be going to see a sick friend. Surely nobody would assume that he was going to see a psychologist at all. If they even bothered to think about it in the first place. They probably had their own business on their minds, didn't they? They all had homework assignments, lessons and tests to worry about after all.

It wasn't until after the end of his first lesson that Saber remembered Ian Doe himself. The boy would know that he was going to the hospital and they'd spend quite some time sitting in the car together both on the way there and back again. What could he say if Ian asked? Could he lie? Would it be rude to refuse to answer?

He liked Ian and wanted to keep up a positive teacher student relationship with as many of the cadets as he could, but not at the price of answering that question. Would Ian understand that?

By the time he actually went to meet the boy he was feeling awfully uncomfortable, but he managed to suppress it and Ian didn't appear to notice a thing.

"Thank you so much for taking me," he said. "When I realised how far away the hospital actually is and that there isn't even a bus I was afraid I'd have to walk."

Saber laughed.

"That would be a bit far," he agreed. "But for a doctor's appointment the Academy is sure to arrange for a driver. There's no need to worry."

"I'm glad I got to go with you, though," Ian said staring out of the window. "I've been hoping to get a chance to talk with you. In private, you know."

"You can always come to see me after class or during lunch."

"But then other students might overhear and it would be somehow official. I ... well, you'd have to answer as a teacher and representative of the school and Cavalry Command, wouldn't you? That might not serve my purpose. Will you give me one completely honest and ... possibly very personal answer, if it's really, really important to me? Completely off the record, I promise. I'll never mention it to anyone. I know it's out of line, you see. I should never ask this, but I have to know. It is really important."

Saber hesitated. If Ian had been waiting for a chance to ask this for a while, it couldn't be about going to the hospital and if it was so important to Ian it might make him forget to wonder about that at all. That was reassuring. On the other hand ...

"I suppose that depends on the question. I am still a teacher and representative of Cavalry Command, even outside the school, and I am also a very private person. I'm not comfortable discussing my private life even with some of my closest friends."

Ian bit his lip.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know I shouldn't have asked."

"Well, so far you haven't," Saber pointed out. "And I didn't mean to say that you couldn't ask. I just ... want you to understand that I might not answer, without wanting to offend you. I ..." How had the psychologist phrased a similar thought once? "I am very pleased that you trust me enough to put such an important question to me, that you are comfortable enough with me to confide in me and I do want to encourage that confidence. I just ... well, there are things that I can't make myself talk to you about despite that. Please, just tell me your question. I promise that the worst thing I'll do is to say I can't tell you. I won't get angry and if you prefer it that way we can pretend you never asked."

Ian squirmed and stared down into his lap.

"It's ... Well, I heard that you were once a spy, but then you suddenly became leader of the Ramrod team. And you haven't really left them even now that the war is over. Most of them came with you to the academy. I've always been told that spying is incredibly important and that there's always a lack of spies. So why the sudden change to a position for which there must have been a lot of candidates coming from less ... short-handed fields? Did it have something to do with spying itself, or ..."

"Oh that," Saber said relieved. He should have guessed. After all Ian had as good as told him he wanted to be a spy. Of course meeting another spy would look like an excellent opportunity to get some last minute career advice. "I didn't actually apply for the Ramrod team at all. It was all a coincidence. We found ourselves faced with a situation in which Ramrod was our only chance and since it wasn't completely ready, yet, there also wasn't any team on hand. It needs four pilots in robot mode and only one was actually there at the time. She emergency drafted the first three people with the necessary skills that she could reach and we were asked to stay on afterwards."

"But why did you accept? Why didn't you go back to the job you'd been trained for?"

"Because ... I never actually thought much about it. I liked Ramrod and the team. One of them was an old friend and ... well, they were all either untrained or too inexperienced for a command position. I was the only one with the qualifications to lead the team. It wouldn't have been right to just up and leave. Besides, above all else I'm a soldier. I was asked to do a job and so I did it, trusting that they wouldn't have asked, if they thought I'd be of more use elsewhere. If they'd asked me to return to being a spy, I'd have assumed that that was how I could serve Cavalry Command best and would have agreed to that. My opinions or preferences never entered into the matter." Saber paused for a moment, but then continued before Ian could say anything. "Now that I think about it, though, and after having done both for a while, I think I do prefer working in a team. Spying is indeed important and there are fewer people aspiring to becoming spies than to becoming team leaders, but on the other hand team leaders are sought after as well. Most of the candidates have to be turned down, not because there aren't enough leadership positions, but because they lack one or another of the skills required. It takes quite a lot to lead others successfully and if you are going to do so in life and death situations, well, Cavalry Command has to be sure you've got everything it takes. Spying ... has a lot of requirements as well, but there's a big difference: Spies don't need leadership skills. It's lonely work and when you do have to deal with people you're usually playing them false. You may have to manipulate them, but you don't want to grow close enough to them that you start to care about them and you don't want to put yourself forward, because the less attention they pay to you the better. Most spies are loners, Cadet Doe, and I don't think you are. Even less so than me, in fact. You are very caring and helpful. I think you might be happier working out in the open with others that rely on you and that you can rely on. Actually being able to go out there and openly help people in need is very rewarding as well." Was he doing the right thing here, though? Cavalry Command did need spies. "I'm not suggesting that you shouldn't become a spy if that's what you want to do, but I think you should consider the general service as well. You might go far."

But Ian shook his head.

"No," he said. "I couldn't. I ... Well, there are reasons why I don't think it would be good for me to work with a team. I'd rather not explain it all, though. I don't think we need to discuss them. I have discussed them with a lot of experts. What I didn't know was just whether there are any reasons not to become a spy that I wasn't aware of."

"Reasons not to become a spy? There are many. It's a hard, dangerous and usually thankless job, but if you are satisfied with merely knowing that you are doing an important task ..."

"I'm just the guy to do it," Ian assured him. "I'm sure of that."

They parted right after entering the hospital and agreed to meet up by the car once they were done. Ian didn't seem to know how long his appointment would take, so Saber didn't let on that his had a definite end time and he also very deliberately didn't watch in which direction Ian left hoping that the cadet would return the courtesy.


	4. Chapter 4: Terziember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody has some problems here, but some can be fixed more easily than others.

Chapter 4: Terziember

 

"There, that should do it," April said. "It ought to hold now. Try again."

Timothy restarted the motor and indeed everything hummed nicely now.

"Sounds good down here," she reported. "What are the readings?"

"Acceptable," Professor Toleda shouted back. "But not as much improved as I had hoped. I think we're still wasting energy somewhere."

"The cables are all new," Timothy said. "Maybe there's something wrong with the isolation?"

"Looks like it," April agreed. "Let's see if we can narrow down where."

"It's almost eight, April," Timothy reminded her. "And I promised Sue I'd be home earlier today. Let's start fresh tomorrow morning."

"Oh, but I wanted to finish this today! Can't you just phone her and ..."

"Let the poor boy go and pacify his girl before she kicks him out of the house," Professor Toleda said. "The two of us will be enough to track down the problem and there's no way we'll be able to fix it tonight either way."

April beamed at him. He really was the best co-worker ever. Nothing like that shirker Timothy or Colt. Needing to go home to his girlfriend, really! As if she hadn't given up a lot of evenings with Fireball herself!

But then Timothy was little more than a boy, and boys were irresponsible. Even Saber sometimes tried to talk her into taking Sunday off to spend with the boys. Professor Toleda was a real man who knew that his work responsibilities had to come first. If only Fireball were the same.

 

Things did improve a little with practise, Fireball discovered, but his students remained a lot more troublesome than he had expected.

He wondered whether it was too early in their relationship to tell April that he didn't want children. Not that he was seeing a lot of her lately, but she might consider it unfair of him to let her get emotionally invested in their relationship, if their desires diverged on such an important point. If she had set her heart on being a mother someday ... He decided to take the problem to Saber. Saber always knew what was appropriate.

Saber looked up from the lesson plan he'd been working on. "Have you ever discussed marriage with her?"

"Why no, but she might expect it," Fireball said. "Or at least that we'll continue to live together. I ... Well, I'm not disinclined to either so it's not a problem to leave that question up to her. After teaching now, though, I'm sure that I don't like children. They are too much trouble."

"You are teaching adults, Fireball," Saber reminded him. "Very young and still disoriented and inexperienced adults, but ... well, at that age they are either getting ready to leave the nest or already flown. If you don't want to or can't cope with teenagers you can send them to boarding school. In fact, attending the Star Sheriff Academy is an Eagle family tradition. It probably won't even occur to April to send your children to a local high school in the first place. So you have nothing to worry about, if you do have children."

"It's not just my students," Fireball confessed. "I can't stand the younger ones either. Little Hannah is driving me crazy and she's definitely not old enough that I'd agree to send her to boarding school if she were my daughter. She has managed to discover where my car stands between lessons somehow and now I find her waiting for me before and after almost every afternoon and evening lesson. If she didn't have to be in class herself in the mornings I'd never be free of her at all!"

"Don't be heartless," Colt who'd entered sometime during this speech admonished him. "You're all she has. Her parents sent her to school to be rid of her, her teacher has a whole class of abandoned children on her hands and she doesn't seem to be getting on with her classmates. She just wants an adult to protect and guide her. Just give her a little attention and you'll probably have a friend for life."

"I don't want a friend. I want to be rid of the clinging child. My job is to teach fifteen year olds to drive, not play agony aunt for ten year olds. Not that I volunteered for that either."

"Oh, stop complaining!" Colt snapped suddenly. "You're a soldier, aren't you? You've been ordered to serve here, so you do the best you can."

"It's not because of me that we're here," Fireball returned just as sharply. "I ..."

And then he remembered that yelling at Colt wasn't going to help and reined himself in. It wasn't Colt's fault any more than his own, after all, and the cowboy probably had just as hard a time coping as he did. Maybe he'd been telling himself that he was a soldier and this was his duty the whole time.

Instead Fireball turned to his other friend. "Can't you do anything to convince that stupid doctor, Saber?"

Saber kept staring at his lesson plan.

"I don't know what exactly he wants from me, and he refuses to tell me, so I can't fake it. And he keeps saying that I need rest. Maybe that means that all he wants is to keep me away from the front lines for a time and we can leave after that."

"Either way they won't reassign us until the end of the school year," Colt said in an annoyingly calm tone and stretched out in his favourite chair. "Where would they get three replacement teachers that suddenly? Not that we'd be able to patrol while Ramrod's undergoing maintenance. What ship would we go in?"

Fireball gave Colt's chair an angry kick, though of course not hard enough that it might actually topple over and spill the cowboy onto the floor, and received a glare in return. For some reason Colt was really mad at him. But why? Surely that little half hearted kick couldn't provoke the usually so relaxed cowboy?

It wasn't the first time that Fireball had done something like that and in the past Colt had always reacted more playfully than angrily.

It wasn't until Saber had finished his work and left the room that Colt reappeared from under his hat, though.

"How often do I have to remind you not to unload all your problems on Saber?" he asked. "Tell me, or tell April, or tell little Hannah for all I care, but do it when Saber isn't around."

Oh that! Fireball sighed.

"I didn't mean to. I just wanted to ask him something you couldn't know, and the rest just ... slipped out. I hate teaching, Colt. I hate children. I just want to get away from here so much it overwhelms me. It's all I can think about anymore."

"It's only for a year," Colt reminded him. "If you're asked to stay on longer than that you can tell them it doesn't suit you and ask for something more to your liking."

"I know. It just seems like such a long year."

Colt laughed, but a little while later pushed up his hat once more.

"Oh, and Fireball? Forget what I said about telling Hannah. It'd break her poor little heart to know that she annoys you."

"Of course not," Fireball promised.

But who should he turn to? Colt had no solutions and April was always too busy these days. He had to think of something.

 

Colt was growing more and more worried about Fireball. He wished he'd been able to foresee how badly his friend would take to teaching. Surely somebody at or near the Academy could have used a driver or errand boy, but nobody had thought of that when they'd been reassigned. Fireball had seemed to do fine the time they'd guest taught at the Academy after all.

Now however Colt realised that even a desk job would have been a better choice for the racer. Well, no use crying over spilt milk. Fireball would have to suck it up and do the best he could. Colt had too many other things on his hands.

At least the first task of this day was a pretty simple problem. It went by the name of Anna Taylor, a newcomer to the high school whose previous school had not offered shooting lessons at her age level.

By itself that fact wouldn't have been a problem, but for some unfathomable reason Anna's parents hadn't taught her to shoot privately either. Though, maybe they had been wise to wait. If Anna didn't know how to even hold a gun, she also wasn't at all inclined to treat it carelessly, even though she could be very aggressive at times.

Not that Colt thought that she was a bad person. She simply seemed not to be coping well with changing schools and that combined with puberty resulted in her being very moody, at times bordering on depression and at others leading to sudden outbursts of violence that made it hard for her to make friends in a class where everybody else already knew each other and had established their friendships and places in the pecking order.

Anna was an unwelcome addition to the established group and not knowing how to shoot gave them something to ridicule and shame her for.

There was no other newcomer in HS3, so either Anna would have to stay alone and hope for someone to transfer next year or to find a way to force her way into the group. Thus Colt spent a lot of time watching the class's interactions to determine the best and worst people for her to approach so he'd know whom to partner her with when she joined the exercises of the others.

For now he kept her a little apart from the rest where she could focus on the simpler lessons he was teaching her until she caught up enough that joining the others wouldn't result in nothing but frustration.

"Don't rush," he advised her once again. "There's no need to hurry. The target's not running away. Aim carefully, mind your posture and you will hit it. You know all you need to do it now."

"But the others are all much faster," she complained. "And they shoot at much bigger distances, too."

"That's because they've been practising two years longer," he assured her. "The speed will come with time, and if you do well today we can start increasing the distance a little next week."

She sighed. "I'll never be as good as them. How am I going to pass the exams?"

Colt wanted to sigh as well, but he forced himself to remain patient.

"You can't expect to do miracles in just a few weeks," he told her. "There's still a lot of time until the exams. By then you should be able to shoot about as well as your weaker classmates and do just fine next year."

"Next year," she snapped and almost threw the gun aside. "Next year!"

"You can't expect to cover all they learned in two years in a few days," Colt repeated. Of course she didn't like the prospect of being ridiculed the whole year, but some children would naturally continue to do so as long as they could. "It will take even longer than that, if you don't keep practising as much as you can."

"What's the use if, if ..." she sobbed inspiring the others to whisper and point. "They all despise me. How do you expect me to survive as the laughing stock of the entire school for a whole year?"

"I've seen people survive all their school years like that, but you won't have to. Most of them will tire of the joke soon enough once they get used to seeing you hit your targets, even if they aren't as advanced as theirs yet. As for the rest," he shrugged. "They'll be a small group that doesn't know when a joke's been told to death. Ignore them and stick with the friends you've got. They're likely to be more honest friends anyway."

"That'd be great advice if I had friends." She glared at him.

"Aren't the people I see you sitting with at meals your friends?" Colt asked.

"They aren't in my class."

"True," he allowed. "You have mostly older friends, don't you? Ones that have more advanced shooting lessons than this."

"Oh," she said in surprised realisation. "Yes, I suppose the Academy students would have too shoot really well."

"And do they ever ridicule you for not being up to their level?"

"Why no, they've never even mentioned Shooting lessons."

"There you go," Colt said with a smile. "That's the sort of friends I like to have, too, ones that like me for myself and don't care about what I can and can't do, but I suppose it's a bit much to ask of most seventh graders. They are still children after all."

Of course he knew that most people never outgrew taking joy in putting others down, but this would give Anna a little boost that should help her endure a little longer, maybe long enough to make a first friend in her own class.

She didn't look completely convinced, but did pick up her gun and continue practising.

His next task was trickier. The poly-technical class was his smallest - the smallest in the school as far as he knew - and the least important to him, and apparently everybody else. In his case that was because these students had decided not to become Star Sheriffs and therefore most likely would not need their shooting skills in their future careers. Just about every other class was more important for their futures.

Nevertheless they had to pass the subject in order to graduate and that meant that they had to shoot.

"Cad ... Mr. Omawombe, can I have a word with you?"

"I failed the test again, I know," Tuesday Omawombe announced looking a little embarrassed.

"You did," Colt confirmed and led the boy into his office where he made sure to assume a position from which he could watch both him and the rest of the class through the open door. Just because they were a small class and not shooting mad, didn't mean he was comfortable leaving them alone with loaded blasters in their hands. "Just as you intended to. We both know that you know the correct answers, Mr. Omawombe. I've seen you whisper reminders to others. You don't want to pass the test, do you? Why? Do you wish to fail your final year here?"

Tuesday looked down unable to meet Colt's eyes.

"No, Sir," he said.

"Then what's the problem? I might be able to help you, if I know. Are you worried that the others will tease you if you don't do as well as them?"

"No, Sir. I ... I just don't want to shoot. My classmates know and accept that, and even if they didn't I wouldn't care. It is my decision and I know it is the right one."

"I can't pass you, if you don't shoot," Colt repeated. "You don't have to be particularly good at it to only just scrape a passing grade at poly-technical level, but it is supposed to confirm that you can use a blaster without endangering yourself or others. I can't confirm that without having seen proof."

"I will never use a blaster," the boy stated calmly. "I do not want to."

"I do realise that you wouldn't be in this class if you intended to make it your profession, but you still might have to defend yourself someday. The Outriders might attack again, or you might meet with criminals that won't hesitate to kill even the most peaceful of men."

"If it is God's will that I should be attacked and killed by people that I cannot convince not to kill, then I will die knowing that I have served him as best I could," Tuesday said. "I am a man of God. I cannot condone killing, even to save one's own life. It is against God's commandments."

For a moment Colt was dumbstruck. He had heard of pacifists before, but he had never met one. At least not one that took his convictions to such extremes. After the first moment of shock he caught himself however. He merely needed a different approach.

"That is a very admirable choice," he told the boy. "And I wish I could support it, but the problem of passing remains. If you fail Shooting you will have to repeat the year and once again be expected to shoot in order to pass. You'd fail again, have to do the year a third time, and after failing again would leave school without having completed your education. People would consider you a failure. Can't you bring yourself to shoot just a few times so I can teach you enough to pass and to participate in the exam? Unless you are very clumsy at it you won't have to put a lot of effort into the shots to scrape through and after the exam nobody will have the right to require you to ever touch a blaster again."

"A blaster is a weapon," Tuesday insisted. "A tool created only for the purpose of killing. Killing is against God's will. I will not do it."

"Mr. Omawombe, I would never ask one of my students to kill anyone in my class! All I am asking you to do is to shoot at targets made out of dead materials like wood, metal and plastic. They cannot be killed or feel pain and I am sure God doesn't mind that. We can even agree not to use human shaped targets so it won't even be a pretence of killing. The requirements for passing poly-technical level Shooting only specify the distance over which you have to shoot and how many hits have to be passably close to the centre. I doubt anyone will mind, or even wonder, if I use the simplest targets we have for the exam." It would probably please everybody since those were also cheapest to replace. "They're simple black and white discs that don't look even remotely alive. And you can bet that I'll make sure nobody wanders anywhere near the targets before I give a student permission to shoot. I may be a soldier who does kill in battle, but I, too, do not approve of killing where it isn't to defend life or to hunt for food. I will make sure you don't hurt any living thing."

"It is still practising how to kill."

"It is that if you do it because you want to learn how to kill," Colt allowed. "But if you do it because you want to pass the exam, and think only of wanting to pass the exam when you do it, then it is practising to pass the exam. And I hope that that is what your classmates are doing as well. That or practising so they will be able to defend themselves should they be forced to do it someday. I too believe in God and helping my fellow men, Mr. Omawombe. Our beliefs only diverge on the point of how far we believe we are called upon to do so. I believe in aiding them to the point of killing those who threaten them if I cannot find another way to stop them. I respect that you think differently, but please let me help you pass your final year of school. Neither of us will have to kill anyone to achieve that."

It took most of their lesson time to get Tuesday to promise that he would consider the problem and pray for guidance in his decision. Colt considered it a huge step forward anyway.

 

"Don't you see what a big chance this could be for all of us, Daddy?" April pushed. "If we could enter the vapour zone as easily as the Outriders enter our dimension, we'd be able to carry the war back to them, make them suffer some of the destruction for a change."

"We arenâ€™t even at war with them at the moment," Commander Eagle reminded her.

"And how long will that last this time?" April challenged. "They've returned to their own dimension to recoup and strike again before. They'll probably be back in a few years."

"Of course they will, but this is giving us the chance to recoup and rebuild as well. If we jump into their dimension now, even if it's only to test this new technology, that might be seen as provocation. We might start the third Outrider war before we're ready for it."

"And before they are ready," April pointed out. "Which might give us another advantage over them. Besides we don't mean to stay in the vapour zone long enough to be noticed. It's probably as big as our galaxy, so the chances to run into Outriders are pretty slim. We'll just jump in, make sure we've actually arrived there and jump out again. Most likely the Outriders will never know anything happened, but we'll know that our technology works. Then we start mass producing it, install it on as many ships as we can and when they do attack us again they'll get the surprise of their lives. We'll follow them when they return home and destroy their base. With any luck that'll shock them so much it'll end the third Outrider war in a single battle."

"And you want to make Ramrod the test vehicle for this?" Commander Eagle asked sternly. "Why April? What makes you so eager to risk both our hard won peace and your pet project?"

For a moment April was confused by the question. It was true that she usually was more cautious than this, though.

"Because I believe in this project and the advantage it will give us. I believe in Doctor Toleda and his work. It looks sound. It will work and it will give us the edge we need to crush the Outriders once and for all. And I'll have been part of it. I'll get to assist in the installation and fine-tuning of the technology, a real engineering project, Daddy, not just cobbling together existing technologies and making hasty repairs to it in between battles, reports and dull patrolling missions. I ... I want to be an engineer again, Daddy, not just another soldier."

"But does it have to be this project, April?" her father asked calmly. "Do you have to experiment with our best weapon and risk starting another war? If you'd rather work in engineering than on the front line ... Well, I understand that. It is what you were trained for. But Ramrod is no longer an experimental vessel. That project is done. Perhaps it is time you let go of it and move on to something new?"

"Perhaps," April allowed, though she didn't really want to think about it. "But we still need the dimension jumping technology to fight the Outriders when they return. And we need to use Ramrod for that, because there is some risk that we do come out in enemy territory. If we make a successful jump, but are noticed and attacked we need a vessel that can defend itself. Ramrod is the best choice for that. Afterwards ... I'll think about what I want to do more."

Commander Eagle nodded. "Very well, I will present your proposal to the experts and council. Weâ€™ll see what they think and whether we can find the necessary funds."

 

Fireball slammed down the receiver and returned to the kitchen where Colt was reading his psychology book and Saber some highly technical text that Fireball couldn't even classify.

"April has no time for dinner," he reported. "Again."

"No surprise there," Colt commented easily. "I do believe that girl actually loves her work more than she does you."

"But it isn't her work!" Fireball protested. "I mean, not her real job. Her real job is out there with us, chasing Outriders ... or bandits, or something."

"And right now we don't have anyone to chase and are all doing something else," Saber said. "Good for April that she can spend this time doing something she loves. I wish we were all that lucky."

"Trouble?" Colt asked immediately.

Sometimes Fireball had to fight down an impulse to strangle him for pushing Saber like that all the time.

"Problems? Hardly," Saber replied. "My subjects are a bit dry and I'd prefer to teach something more physical, but the theoretical training of the cadets is very important as well. I was thinking of Fireball's dislike of teaching."

"I'd be okay with the job, if I could see my girlfriend now and again," Fireball told him. "And that has nothing to do with work. I think, I have a right to expect that a woman who loves me would want to see me from time to time."

"She can't keep working on Ramrod's upgrade forever," Colt assured him. "Sooner or later it'll be finished and then she'll remember that she misses you."

"Or run off on another engineering project," Fireball sighed. "What if she decides she likes engineering better than us? What would become of our team without her?"

"That's nonsense, Fireball. She's part of the team and Ramrod is her baby. She'll never leave us," Saber told him.

"Never say never," Colt warned them. "I don't think she has any such plans now, but I expect we'll all move on to something else eventually. At least, I don't plan to still be fighting when I'm sixty and if you really want to lead your own team someday, you will have to leave Saber's, Fireball. So yes, I imagine someday April might well switch to engineering permanently, probably once she gets tired of the action. It doesn't mean we won't still be friends, though."

"And it's why we are training cadets," Saber added. "So they can fill the places older Star Sheriffs leave. When April decides to go, we will pick a worthy younger Sheriff to replace her and go on seeing her when we're off duty."

"Like we're seeing her now?" Fireball snapped. He didn't like the idea one bit.

 

"You won't be able to hit anything, if you hold your blaster this gingerly," Colt told Tuesday Omawombe. "Grip it firmly the way I showed you so you can shoot steady and straight."

"I don't want to hit anything," Tuesday returned. "I don't want to touch a blaster at all. There's blood on it."

"No, there isn't any on this one," Colt assured him calmly, though it took quite an effort not to scream with frustration. "This blaster has never been used in an actual fight. It was bought new for this shooting range and we only shoot at our entirely blood-free targets."

"It's still a weapon and I do not want to shoot anyone."

"But you want to pass this class so you can go on to your studies for priesthood, don't you?" Colt reminded him. "To do that you have to be able to hit the target. It's just a wooden target. It doesn't feel anything. It isn't alive and it serves no other useful purpose than for students to pass this class by hitting it. God will forgive you."

"Don't presume to know what God will and will not do," Tuesday admonished Colt. "You are just a misguided sinner that knows nothing of God."

Behind them Tuesday's classmates giggled.

Colt took a deep steadying breath.

"Mr. Omawombe, I presume to know that God will forgive you, because I know that God is all-knowing and therefore knows that you do not want to do it, but that in order to be able to become a priest and serve him, you must. Since to my knowledge nobody on the New Frontier can enter religious studies without having passed his poly-technical year, including the mandatory Shooting class, God must know that all his priests on the New Frontier must have been forced to shoot at a target at some point, whether they wanted to or not. I can't imagine that he, who is supposed to be willing to forgive all sinners, will refuse to forgive shooting a wooden target because one has to in order to follow his calling."

More giggling, but at least the gigglers were on his side now. Then again, he didn't want to ridicule Tuesday.

"Now, now, there is nothing funny about this," Colt told the class. "These theological issues are very serious and Mr. Omawombe deserves our respect for not just brushing them aside because a teacher is telling him to shoot. I really wish I could just give him an 'excused for religious reasons' instead of a grade, but the law won't let me."

"Can one do something like that in other schools?" a girl called Lisa Jacobs asked.

"Not that I know," Colt admitted. "At least not on the New Frontier, but 'excused for medical reasons' is used for disabled students who can't hold or aim a blaster. That way you can still pass school, if you're blind or missing fingers."

It was no consolation for Tuesday Omawombe, though. He still had to shoot ... which he actually did once at the end of the lesson. The shot went wild however and he dropped the blaster.

"Yikes!" Colt exclaimed. "See, this is why you have to hold it tightly. If somebody had been standing over there you might have hit them just because your blaster twitched when you fired it."

Tuesday left the shooting range looking very pale and shaking despite the kind words and cup of chocolate Colt treated him to in celebration of his first shot.


	5. Chapter 5: Quartember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately students don't always do as they're told, not even ones that want to become Star Sheriffs.

Chapter 5: Quartember

 

Colt took a deep breath to calm himself. At least the culprit looked contrite. Being too harsh with her might not be the best idea.

"Cadet Chang," he said as calmly as he could manage. "Havenâ€™t you studied any gun safety at all? You passed your test at the beginning of the year. I have repeatedly reminded all of you that you must carry and store your guns safely. Do you remember what I told you about drawing it?"

"Not until I am actually about to shoot and am standing in front of the target," she said meekly. "Then I pull it out pointing at the ground until I raise it towards the target to aim."

"Which you only do ..." Colt prompted.

"When I'm absolutely sure there is nobody standing between me and the target or next to the target. If possible all my classmates should be behind me where I definitely never point the gun."

"So how come there's a hole in the wall behind you, where your classmates were standing?"

"I raised my gun in the wrong direction and a shot went off, but I didn't mean it, honest! I was just going to try whether I could hit a bird that was flying overhead and forgot to mind the direction and ... my finger must have twitched. I swear I'll never forget it again!"

"You do realise that we are all very lucky that you didn't hit anyone, don't you? Considering how many people were standing in that area it is almost a miracle that you found an empty spot."

"Yes Sir, I know, and I'll never ever make that mistake again! I swear! Please don't expel me!"

"I won't this time, but I do have to report the incident to the headmaster. The hole will need repairing, you see, and that must be paid for."

"Oh, I'll pay for the damage of course!" she promised eagerly.

Colt hadn't been about to demand that, thinking it best to leave that decision to the headmaster. The shooting range did have a repair budget. After all a lot of shots missed their intended targets every day and while the safety wall behind them was thick it would eventually crumble if it weren't repaired at regular intervals.

"I'll tell the headmaster that as well. One more question, though, Cadet."

She looked at him expectantly.

"Why shoot the poor bird? What has it done? Aren't we giving you enough to eat that you have to hunt to feed yourself?"

She stared at him, clearly at a loss.

"No, of course not. I was just going to try whether I can hit a moving target at that distance. Daniel said I couldn't, you see. And it was just a bird."

"Just a bird? That's probably not what its mate and chicks would have thought if it hadn't returned to their nest tonight."

The students laughed and even Chang's lips twitched for a moment.

"That might sound funny to you," Colt scolded. "But 'it's just a ...' is never a good enough reason to shoot anything. Neither is proving that you can. We have targets to practise on and sometimes we have to shoot to save lives or to feed people, but what you intended to do today was just wanton destruction of a living creature. I expect better of a Star Sheriff."

Sometimes he wished some of his other students had just a touch of Tuesday Omawombe's scruples.

He decided to give the class a lecture on when to shoot and when not to, but just then the phone rang.

He picked it up.

"Shooting range?"

"Colt? This is Molly. Could you dismiss your class early and come over here? We have a situation that ... well, I think it might help if you had a little talk with some students here."

Colt blinked. What could this be about?

"Alright Molly, Iâ€™ll be right over. I just need a few minutes to lock up here."

One couldn't rush that. If only one student managed to sneak out with a gun ... well holes in walls and dead birds were among the most harmless consequences that might have.

When he arrived he found his old friends Evans and Jonassen sitting in Molly's office together with their classmates Quinto and Hartford, the last looking even paler than Cadet Chang had when she'd first realised she'd almost shot a fellow student.

Colt looked from one to the other and then at Molly.

"So, what's up?"

"These four stole one of the school's cars and drove it straight into Fireball's driving school car," Molly explained. "Fireball wants them expelled."

"We only wanted to make a quick trip into town to buy some stuff we need," Quinto added. "Jason said he could drive and we'd have refilled the tank so there wasn't supposed to be any harm done."

"Please," said Hartford. "If you don't expel us you can deduct it from my pay after we graduate."

Evans snorted.

"Our parents will come up for it, of course," he said. "They won't expel us."

"I don't have parents," Jonasson reminded him with a groan. "And the orphanage definitely won't."

"And mine don't have any money to spare," Hartford pleaded. "They'd have to sell their house to do it."

"And I," said Colt. "Am just the Shooting teacher. It's not my decision whether to expel you. What do you expect me to do?"

"Yes, but you are Mr. Fireball's friend, aren't you?" Jonassen said. "And Miss Molly said ... well ..."

"Well?" Colt prompted.

"I ..." Molly started, but Colt raised his hand to forestall her.

"No, no, if they want something from me, the least they can do is ask me themselves. So?"

"Well, Sir," Hartford took over again. "We were hoping that maybe, if you could talk to Mr. Fireball he might maybe agree to some other punishment. We will pay for the damage of course ... once we have enough money of our own."

Quinto and Jonassen nodded eagerly. Evans rolled his eyes.

Colt regarded them all thoughtfully.

"Well, I don't know," he said. "It isn't like you are completely innocent, after all, and it wasn't a harmless prank either. You broke the law and endangered people's lives."

"We didn't mean to," Jonassen assured him.

"Jason said he could drive," Quinto repeated.

Hartford regarded his toes. "We know, but we are very, very sorry."

"I can too drive!" Evans declared.

"Those damaged cars are a strong argument against that, don't you think, Cadet Evans?" Colt suggested.

"It was an accident," Evans protested. "Could have happened to anyone."

"Do you have a driving license, Cadet?"

"No Sir, but ..."

"And did you have anyone's permission to take that car?"

"Well, no Sir, but I've driven my parents' car lots of times back at home and nothing ever happened. I'm just not used to such big cars yet. Thatâ€™s all."

"You took the car without permission," Colt repeated. "Whose idea was that?"

"Well, mine," Evans admitted. "The others wouldn't have thought of it because none of them can drive."

He grinned.

"I wouldn't have thought of it either," Colt said. "Even though I can drive and have a license. I wouldn't have thought of taking that car because that's theft, you see, and I am a Star Sheriff. We're supposed to fight crime and not commit it."

"We only meant to borrow it," Evans protested.

"Borrowing without permission is still theft," Colt pointed out. "When I want to borrow something I go to the owner and ask. And if he says no and I take the item anyway it's still theft. Now, if you had asked Miss Molly whether you could borrow a car, what do you think she'd have said?"

"Well, she'd have had to say no, because I don't have a license yet."

"Indeed, because letting you drive without a license would have been against the law, too. So you had the idea to steal the car and you drove it without a license. How did you get in and start the car? Did you steal the keys as well?"

"No, it wasn't locked and I short-circuited it," Evans admitted finally beginning to look a little uncomfortable.

"Your idea as well?"

"Yes Sir, all my idea."

"Well, that was definitely negligent of whoever left the car unlocked, but what of the rest of you? You saw that Evans short-circuited the car. At that point at the latest you must have realised that you were doing something illegal. Why didn't you do anything to stop him?"

"Well, Max did say that maybe we shouldn't and that we'd get in trouble," Quinto confessed. "And I thought it wasn't quite right, but Jason said that he'd done it before and that it didn't do the car any harm and we wouldn't be caught. And I really, really need new shoes."

He lifted his right foot to show the sole coming loose at the tip.

"And it was awfully exciting, too," Jonasson added. "I never really had any proper adventures at the orphanage."

"Very mature, Jonasson," Colt commented. "In fact, that goes for all of you. But, you know what I find most noteworthy here, Evans? You had the idea, you invited your friends along assuring them that you would make sure nothing would go wrong, you stole the car, you drove it into another car causing a lot of damage. Now you say your parents will pay for it, but your friends don't have that luxury. It is true that as future Star Sheriffs your friends ought to have known better than to go along with this and should have stopped you, but who do you think is most responsible for this mess here?"

"I ... suppose ..." Evans said not meeting his eyes.

"Yes, and do you know what I suppose? I suppose I could help you guys out, but I am not responsible for this in any way. You are. And I don't think I ought to take responsibility for what you did. This didn't happen in my class and I'm not your commanding officer."

"Our commanding officer?"

"An officer takes responsibility for the actions of his men. Of course that also means that an officer will try to make sure that he doesn't have any men under his command that are likely to commit acts that he doesn't want to be held responsible for and good soldiers will do their best not to commit any acts that their commanding officer ought not to have to be made responsible for."

"You think that I ought to go in there and tell the headmaster that it's all my fault and that he should expel only me?"

"I think that you should go in there and tell the headmaster that it's all your fault, that you know it was a very stupid idea and that you will come up for the damage and please not to punish your friends. Don't put expulsion into his head right away and you might get away with a warning and a hefty debt. ... Or might not. Thatâ€™s up to the headmaster. I just want to warn you that it'll probably be a lot more expensive than you realise right now. Driving school cars are very special builds and not as easily repaired as normal cars."

"You don't think I've got the guts, eh?" Evans smirked at him. "Well, just watch me."

"You'll have to wait until Mr. Fireball comes out," Molly stopped him. "Just bursting into their conversation would not exactly help your case."

"Well, you'd best schedule me in right after Cadet Evans then," Colt told her. "I've got a damage report to make as well."

It might not help Cadet Chang's case if he reported her misdeed when General WhiteHawke was already furious, but he thought he'd better stay around so Evans would have someone to prove his courage to and maybe it would also be a good idea to put in a good word for the boy after his noble performance. They did not need another Jesse Blue.

 

"We're back, Molly," Saber reported entering the secretary's office after another trip to the hospital with Ian. "Did anything imp..."

He stopped when he realised how many people there were in the office and how scared the students looked. Fireball on the other hand looked furious and Colt, Colt actually looked serious and somehow dignified, two adjectives Saber hadn't associated with the cowboy before.

Saber decided to turn to him for an answer: "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing that needs to concern you," Colt said lightly. "Just somebody decided your young friend Doe shouldn't be the only one that gets to go to town today."

"I'd have been glad to trade places with them," Ian interjected. "I can't see why anyone would want a trip to the hospital if they're not sick, though."

"I wanted to buy shoes."

"I am out of toothpaste."

"And I of ink."

"But, you can't get any of those things at the hospital," Saber told them. "What ever gave you that idea?"

"They ruined my car!" Fireball shouted. "For that!"

"What, your turbo?" That was indeed serious. Saber wondered why Colt thought it needn't concern him. Did Colt think he was that fragile now?

"The Academy's car," Colt amended putting a hand on Saber's shoulder as if he feared that Saber might attack the boys. Well, maybe he did have a reason for that, since Saber had attacked Commander Eagle that one time. But he had himself under control again now. There was no need for this. "Two of the Academy's cars to be exact, but nobody got hurt."

Saber looked from one culprit to the next. They were all such good kids.

"Please, Captain Rider," Max pleaded. "We didn't mean any harm. We thought Jason could drive."

"Yes, so he keeps telling everybody no matter how often I tell him he can't," Fireball snapped. "You've got to help me convince the General to expel these young rowdies, Saber!"

"Please, can't you put in a good word for us?" pleaded Davie. "We swear we'll be model students from now on."

"Stop that!" Colt ordered sharply. "All of you! Captain Rider won't be doing anything in the matter. Leave it to me."

"But they really are good boys, Colt," Saber told the cowboy. "I can't just let them be expelled."

"Do you really think I'd do that?" Colt asked sounding surprised. "I don't want another Jesse Blue."

That made the kids pale, but Fireball only got angrier.

"They ruined my car!" the racer yelled.

"And they are very sorry. They know they should have known better and I do believe them when they say they won't do it again. Besides to be exact it's Evans that wrecked the car and he's in there confessing his guilt right now. Let's wait and see what the General thinks after that before we start begging for more help."

"I refuse to teach them any further!" Fireball yelled. "I want them expelled!"

"Now Fireball," Colt started, but Saber cut him off.

"Your lessons arenâ€™t mandatory, Fireball, nor are you the only driving teacher," he told his friend calmly. "There's no reason they can't continue at the Academy without you teaching them. Why don't you tell General WhiteHawke that on second thought you just want them out of your lessons rather than expelled?"

"Oh yes, please Mr. Fireball!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"They deserve to be expelled," Fireball insisted much to Saber's surprise.

"Donâ€™t get involved, Saber," Colt said once again. "I can handle it."

So far all Saber thought he had achieved was to raise the noise level and he hated to fight with Fireball, but on the other hand he couldn't let all these poor students get expelled for something Evans had done. Maybe Evans did deserve to be expelled, though. That boy had been nothing but trouble from day one. It'd be a relief to be rid of him.

"Now listen here everybody." He'd try to negotiate that as a compromise. There had to be a way he could fix it.

"Saber?" Suddenly Molly was standing beside him. "Could I have a word in private?"

She pulled him into a small side-room that held stores of coffee and other office supplies.

"Listen Saber, I appreciate that you want to help those cadets, but you should not get stressed."

"I'm fine, Molly, perfectly fine. I can handle it."

"But you don't have to. Colt really has the situation under control. He sent Evans in there to take the blame and beg the others off, and knowing the General as well as I do, I can tell you he'll grant it. Then Colt will go in next and plead Evans' case. I promise I'll call you if that doesn't work out, but right now you're just complicating the situation further."

That hurt, but he couldn't let Molly see that. It was unworthy of him anyway.

"If you want to help, see if you can't get Fireball out of here until his anger blows over. He's already seen the General about this and now he's just scaring the children further."

Saber sighed and nodded. "Alright, I'll take him back to my office and talk him down."

He'd manage that much ... somehow.

 

April couldn't wait to tell the boys the news. She rushed into the flat - the first time she'd visited it in several weeks - and shouted "Guess what!" excitedly.

The boys looked at her in silence, each from another end of the room.

"Well what?" Colt asked finally.

"Dr. Toleda has ...Oh, but I never told you, did I?"

"Told us what?" Saber asked pointedly.

"About Dr. Toleda, or did I?"

"That total engineering genius on your team that's so totally brilliant?" Fireball asked sarcastically. "Only about every time you've talked to us at all since you first met him. So what has the human world wonder done now?"

"Fireball," Saber said.

"Never mind the racer, April," Colt advised. "He's had a really bad day. What about Toleda?"

"Oh, he's got this brilliant theory about how to jump dimensions!"

"He just casually came up with that?" Colt asked. "Alright the man really is a genius."

"Well, not casually actually," April explained. "He's been working on it for a while, studying everything we know about the Outriders' sudden appearances, but now he's got an idea how to actually build it. Of course he hasn't really built and tested it yet, but just imagine what it will mean for us!"

"Well," Colt said, but his voice sounded doubtful. "That sure is a huge step for science if it works."

"I've double-checked all Steven's calculations myself," April retorted "They are perfectly sound."

How dared Colt who knew nothing about engineering or technology doubt Steven Toleda!

"I don't mean to imply anything about the theory, April," Colt assured her hastily. "But doesn't it usually take a few false attempts before new technology works as intended? And what about the political consequences?"

"Politics? What do politics have to do with developing new technology?"

"Not with developing it, April," Saber cut in. "But with testing. I suppose the only way we could do that is by jumping into the vapour zone."

"Why of course. It is the only other dimension we are completely sure exists."

"But," said Saber. "It is also the home of a very dangerous enemy that has been leaving us alone for the moment. Our entering their dimension might be taken as a provocation. Are we actually ready to risk another Outrider war for a scientific experiment?"

That really was a sobering thought.

"We'll have to use Ramrod for the test, I know," April said. "We have no way of telling where in the vapour zone we'll come out yet, and if we send a civilian craft anywhere near an Outrider fleet it'll probably be destroyed before it can jump back. And the new technology would be lost with it."

"And do we want to provoke the Outriders that much?" Colt asked. "They'll definitely take Ramrod's appearance for an attack and I personally am happy that we're at peace now. We haven't even finished rebuilding everything that was destroyed in the last war. If the Outriders mean to allow us the time to do it, I'm all for it."

"And in the meantime they are consolidating their forces as well and we are stuck here playing teachers," Fireball growled. "The next war can't come soon enough as far as I'm concerned."

April smiled at him fondly. He was such a hothead sometimes.

"What put you in such a bad mood anyway? You don't usually get this upset for so long."

"A bunch of idiots stole a car and crashed it into my schooling car! And Colt went and got them all off without so much as a slap on the wrist."

"Actually," Colt said. "They're all banned from driving lessons and Evans has to pay for the damage I think that's quite harsh enough for a bit of childish stupidity."

"I still think Evans should have received a harsher punishment," Saber said. "The whole thing really was his fault and he's been nothing but trouble from the start."

"I don't want another Jesse Blue and that's just what Evans is: An immature boy who thinks the world of his own abilities." Colt paused for a moment, but then continued. "He isn't actually as talented or smart as Jesse, I'll grant you that. He probably wouldn't get as far if he were to join the Outriders, but I'm sure Nemesis, or at least some random bunch of bandits would find a use for him. And even if they didn't there'd still be the tragedy of the boy's own wasted life and potential. We can still make a good Star Sheriff out of him. We just have to get him to grow up a little first."

April shuddered. She wasn't in the least interested in the cadets and glad she didn't have to teach this time, but she still vividly remembered her encounter with Jesse Blue.

"Do you really think that's all it was?" she asked Colt. "Immaturity? I mean, it was what I myself thought at first when he made his ridiculous proposal, but when he assaulted me, that was seriously scary. There was nothing funny or cute about that anymore."

"I never said either Jesse or Evans were funny or cute," Colt returned seriously "They are teenage boys given an amount of responsibility they are not ready to bear and it's gone straight to their heads. ... Well, Evans is. As for Jesse, it's been what, four years now? I expect he has grown out of it by now. If he is still alive."

"But what has he grown into?" Saber asked darkly.

"A loner?" Colt suggested. "A man who's only ever learned to fend for himself and give no thought to others or any laws or rules in the process. If they havenâ€™t killed him yet he probably fits in just fine with the Outriders by now. He could have been one of our biggest heroes, if he'd stayed and learned to work with and for other people, though."

"But he assaulted me. He had no respect for women whatsoever," April reminded the cowboy.

"Few teenage boys do," Colt argued. "It doesn't fit in with their macho world views. Most learn better in time."

Still April did not think that most teenage boys would assault a woman or girl they desired the way Jesse had done to her. Or was that just a romantic illusion? Had she simply been lucky that it had only happened to her once and by the time that she had been mature enough to know how to deal with it?


	6. Chapter 6: Quintember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireball's carless and ... just what is wrong with little Hannah?

Chapter 6: Quintember

 

Fireballâ€™s mood hadn't improved much since he'd lost his driving school car, a fact that surprised even himself. Usually he didn't hold grudges and though he hadn't gotten his way concerning the punishments of the students who'd wrecked his car the incident had had several positive results for him.

The most important of these definitely was that it had freed him of his most unpleasant student. Why did he care that Jason Evans was still at the Academy? He wouldn't have to deal with him ever again. Whatever new student he got to replace him couldn't possibly be as troublesome and Fireball was determined to put the boy in his place from the very start.

That the accident had also freed him of Max Hartford was a minor bonus. The boy hadn't really been difficult to deal with and Fireball could have gone on teaching him just fine, but he had never liked him. Maybe his replacement would be someone more pleasant to teach ... though Fireball had to admit to himself that he didn't actually like any of his students. He disliked children in general after all, even if they weren't technically children anymore.

Lastly there was the fact that his driving school car was down for repairs and until it was fixed Fireball could not give anyone any driving lessons. This, as Molly had informed him happily, meant that he would only be required to hold himself ready to supervise any class whose normal teacher was for some reason or other unable to take it. It would be a nice, quiet time until he got his car back.

A pity he had to stay on the school grounds, though. He felt like taking his turbo out onto the racetrack and ...

"Mr. Fireball!"

Flop! Hannah had once again attached herself to him and promptly burst into tears.

"Oh God, not again!" another small girl voiced exactly what Fireball was thinking. "That child is unbearable!"

"Embarrassing," a boy Fireball though he recognised as Saber's little friend Jose replied more softly. "Thatâ€™s the word for it. But she is our classmate and she only acts up worse when you comment on it or try to teach her better."

Hannah had apparently heard it, too, because she sobbed harder and clung more tightly to Fireball.

"Why Hannah, what's the matter?" Fireball asked suppressing a sigh and gesturing for her classmates to move on.

For what seemed like an eternity Hannah simply continued to cry, but finally her sobs subsided enough that Fireball felt he could peel her off himself and take her by the hand instead. That had the advantage that he could lead her out of the much frequented corridor to some place where they were less likely to be seen and commented on.

"What's wrong?" he asked again once they were sitting on a bench outside. He even managed not to add 'this time'.

"They all hate me," Hannah said with a sniffle. "And I'm awful in school and I want to go home."

"I'm sure that's not true," Fireball assured her. "Your friends just hate to see you cry all the time. If you'd only be happy and smile at them they'd like you just fine and then you'd soon start doing better in your classes as well."

"But I'm not happy. I'm unhappy and when I'm unhappy I can't smile and I don't have friends," Hannah sobbed again. "And now you'll tell me I should be grateful and glad to be at such a wonderful school with such wonderful people, but I don't like it and they don't like me and there's nothing to be happy about there."

"Not a lot of people get the chance to go here this early," Fireball tried. "You ought to be proud of that."

"Why should I feel proud of having to go to a place I don't want to be? I envy the people who don't have to come yet. I'd like a real home and real parents who love me."

"Your parents love you so much that they sent you to the very best school they could find!" Fireball snapped. "And you always whining about it and not using your chance to learn and not being happy to be loved so much is really very ungrateful to them." That ought to encourage her to change her attitude. "And as for not having any friends, maybe it's time you stopped always running away from your peers when you see me. Of course they must think you don't like them, if you never want to spend any time with them."

Hannah flinched, but to Fireball's joy she did stop crying very suddenly.

"See," he said. "That's much better already. Now run along and play with your little friends."

Hannah got up, but she didn't run along. She looked at him in silence for a moment, face still tear-stained and lips pressed together tightly. Then she turned away abruptly, took a step, then another. Then she turned half back to him.

"You could simply have said go away," she said with her voice still choking with suppressed tears.

Then she ran, not towards the school and her classmates, but in the other direction, towards the outbuildings.

"Hannah!" But she didn't stop and Fireball couldn't follow her. He was still on call.

Besides he didn't know what else to say to her or why she'd reacted so weirdly. So he went back inside instead. Maybe Molly would know what was wrong with the annoying little girl.

 

"You are absolutely brilliant!" Stephen exclaimed when the little green lamp finally lit up and threw his arms around her.

"We did it!" April shouted with glee and before she knew what she was doing she'd kissed him on the cheek.

They both froze for a moment, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"Absolutely brilliant," Stephen repeated. "And stunningly beautiful."

And this time he kissed her, and not merely on the cheek.

 

"Captain Rider?"

Saber looked up from his work.

"Jose." That was odd. The first years didn't have any lessons on this floor and Jose had never come to his classroom before. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, it's nothing serious," Jose said looking at him oddly. "At least I don't think it is. It's just that I can't find Hannah. You know, she's that crybaby in my class. Mr. Fireball asked me to look after her and now I don't know where she is. I think I might have failed my duty."

"You can't watch someone all the time, Jose," Saber said with a slight smile. "Especially if she's a girl. She won't appreciate you following her to the bathroom for example. In fact, maybe she's enjoying a nice hot bath right now never dreaming that anybody might be worried for her."

"But Mr. Fireball said to watch over her."

"He meant make sure she isn't lonely, play with her, talk with her, help her with her homework if she needs help ... Not supervise her all the time, just be her friend."

Jose sighed.

"I'm not sure I can," he admitted. "I ... can't bring myself to actually like her."

Saber nodded understandingly. "Its hard to like everybody. Try not to let her feel it. A good Star Sheriff should never be nasty to anyone."

Jose nodded earnestly. "Could you ... tell Mr. Fireball that I can't do it, though? I'd do it myself, but he doesn't have a classroom and I never know where to look for him. Except at lunch, of course, but then Hannah is there, too, and I don't want her to hear me say that I don't like her."

"That's very correct of you," Saber praised. "Letting her hear that you don't like her would be being nasty to her. I can tell him at home tonight. Hannah can't possibly overhear anything there."

"Thank you," Jose said and turned back towards the door. Halfway there he stopped suddenly, though and returned. "Maybe there's something I can do for you, too?"

Saber smiled again. Jose was such a good boy. "That's very nice of you, but there isn't anything you can do about the things that trouble me."

Jose looked so disappointed that after a moment Saber added: "I tend to worry about things because I can't influence them much myself either, you see. Those aren't problems people can help with."

"Oh those," Jose said wisely. "Tuesday has told me all about those. One must tell them to God he says and God will fix them unless not fixing them is better than fixing them. And there's no need to worry anymore once you've told God, because God always knows what's best."

Saber almost smiled at that.

"Maybe I will," he said. "It does sound like it's worth a try."

Apparently it convinced Jose as he left smiling happily.

 

"Very good, Cadet," Colt praised. "Now don't forget to ... Hold your fire! Everybody secure your guns until I tell you you can use them again. There's something alive in the target area."

And from the short glimpse Colt had gotten of it, it appeared to be human. How someone could have ended up in there Colt had no idea, but with the students anything was possible. The area was fenced off, the door locked and there were several warning signs, but that might not be sufficient protection against dares or pranks like throwing a weaker kid or somebody else's prized possession over the fence to see what they'd do.

Colt luckily was equipped with a key. The targets needed checking and maintenance after all. Could it be that he or one of the men that had performed repairs there yesterday had forgotten to re-lock the door?

But when he got there it was still locked and there was no sign of anybody in there. Still, Colt was sure of what he'd seen.

"Who's there?" he demanded letting himself in. "I know you're here. I saw you."

There was no reply, but a quick search of every object large enough to hide behind revealed her soon enough. A little girl, one of the Academy's youngest students that he had given little attention to so far as they were still too young to even hold a blaster properly, though they could play pretend with the water guns well enough, and got their shooting lessons from their general teacher rather than him. He did remember the child from outside classes for her tendency to cling to Fireball, though.

Her face was tear-stained and for a moment Colt wondered whether he should have made a point of getting to know her, but until now there hadn't seemed to be a reason.

"Hannah?" he said more gently, glad that he at least remembered her name. "Look Hannah, I'm not going to yell at you. I understand wanting a private place to cry in, but this one just won't do. I've got some really eager cadets shooting real blasters at these targets right now and ..." he lowered his voice to a whisper. "They aren't all as good as they think they are, yet. They're pretty likely to hit you, if you stay here. We can't let that happen, can we?"

Hannah looked at him consideringly.

"Yes, you can," she said then. "It'd make everybody h...happy I promise."

"I doubt that," Colt said. "And I don't know whether you've ever had a blaster wound before. I have and it hurts an awful lot. You wouldn't like that, would you?"

Hannah considered that.

"I'd rather die," she declared. "But, do you think that maybe my parents would come and take me home if I get hurt?"

Oh fuck! He hadn't bargained for that kind of problem!

"More likely your parents would come and kill me for neglecting my duty and letting you get hurt."

"Oh," she regarded him thoughtfully. "Can't we pretend you didn't see me? Then it wouldn't be your fault and maybe I'd still get lucky and die."

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I'm afraid I'd still be responsible. I have to make absolutely sure that we practise shooting safely so nobody ever gets hurt, you see. But you know what I can do? I can let you into my office and make you a cup of hot chocolate and then you can cry as much as you want. Nobody will come in there until the end of this lesson."

It took some coaxing, but in the end Hannah agreed that she did kind of like hot chocolate, even though it was no good as a means of committing suicide and came along. This enabled Colt to continue his lesson, but he had a very hard time teaching after the incident nevertheless.

What in the world could make a cute little girl think that everybody would be happy if she died?

Of course she had given him one clue: She wanted her parents to come and fetch her home, so apparently she was unhappy at the Academy. Could it be a case of bullying?

He hadn't noticed any among her classmates, but then he was known to step in immediately when he noticed any teasing or fooling around in his classes. Perhaps even the youngest bullies in the school had heard that and ceased their tormenting when he was around.

There was no telling what might be going on in that class during their lessons, or among the dorm mates in Hannah's dorm.

Then again, Hannah was so very young, young enough to get terribly upset over some small insignificant thing that appeared unbearable at the moment, but would blow over soon. She simply didn't have the experience to judge the consequences of events yet and might think people wanted her to die, because they'd gotten angry over some minor misdeed or accident.

Still, he'd better investigate.

When he returned to his office he found that Hannah had drunk her hot chocolate and stopped crying, but she was still far from happy. It looked more like she'd exhausted her stock of tears for the moment.

"So Hannah," he said sitting down across from her. "Do you feel able to talk with me now?"

"I guess so," she said staring down at the table.

"Then, first of all can you tell me how you got into the target area? I was sure it was all locked up and safe, you see, and I really will get into terrible trouble if somebody gets in there and gets hit. I've got to make sure it doesn't happen."

"There's a hole in the fence, the bottom of a board missing," Hannah reported willingly enough. "It's a very small hole, but I'm small, too. I can squeeze through."

"I see," Colt said. "I guess I'll have to get that repaired then. "You aren't the only small student at the Academy."

She nodded. "I don't think the others know it's there. I was looking for a place to hide from them, you see."

"Ah, but they might notice it sometime. Better safe than sorry. You were hiding you say? You weren't just playing Hide and Seek, were you?"

"No, of course not. They don't play childish things like that."

"Were they doing something nasty to you then?" There were no visible marks on her, but ... "Did somebody hit or push you?"

She shook her head. "No, they don't. Well, they push me sometimes, but just when I'm standing in the way, not to be nasty. They aren't bad children."

"Did they take something away from you then? Or break something that belongs to you?"

Again she shook her head. "No, they really aren't bad. They don't steal."

"I didn't think that," Colt assured her. "I just remembered a game we liked to play when I was your age. Someone took something away from the smallest child and then held it high over his head and when the little one would try to tackle him, because he couldn't reach it, he'd throw it to another tall child. Sometimes we kept doing it too long and then the little child would cry." But she shook her head at that as well. "Was it some other kind of teasing, then? Did they call you some unpleasant name or insult you?"

"No. Well, of course they call me names all the time, but that's just what people do, isn't it? I mean ..." she blushed and continued at a whisper. "Daddy always calls me the little shitter, too, and Mum says it means that he loves me and I mustn't complain. I should be happy that he does. Just like I should be happy they sent me here. I just can't ever manage to feel right. ....There's something wrong with the way I feel and think, you see," she confided. "I just can't make myself do it like normal people. It just always happens in some wrong way and ... and I don't even know what the right way ought to be until somebody tells me. But then I still can't make myself feel that way. I just can't fix myself. ... Please don't send me to the asylum! I don't really mean it. I'll figure it out. I just need a little longer, I promise!"

Now she was crying again. Colt stared at her.

"You're scared of being put into an asylum, because you don't like being called little shitter?" he tried to summarise.

"Not ... not just because of that. I also, ... also ... don't like it when people pull my hair or poke and tickle me ... and I ... I can't make myself feel grateful and happy that my parents sent me here. Instead I ... I want them to ... to want me with th... them ... and I ... I want to go home. But of course nobody c... can want somebody ab... abnormal like me. So ... so they ... sent me ... away ... and ... and ... I'm just not grateful and ... and ... I thought Mr. Fireball liked me, but ... but ... of course he doesn't ... and now ... now I'm angry at him instead ... instead of ... of grateful. And so ... so I thought ... it'd all be much better if ... if I just were ... dead."

"Now Hannah ..." God where to start! "Hannah, you are not insane."

"You don't know that. You will think so once you know me better."

"Yes, I do," Colt said. "You see, besides Shooting, I also teach Psychology. Thatâ€™s all about the way people's thoughts and feelings work. And I'll tell you something: Your Daddy probably thinks that little shitter is something really cool and novel to call a child, but it is actually an insult and he ought not to say it, especially now that you are a big girl. It's perfectly normal to get upset by that. Then ... what was the next thing you mentioned? Pulling your hair, poking and tickling, wasn't it? Well, getting one's hair pulled isn't funny. I've never had long hair myself, but when I was a little boy I was told that I mustn't pull other people's hair because that hurts and if I did it anyway I'd be punished. As far as I know that's the usual policy concerning hair-pulling, so I don't even understand where you got the idea that you were supposed to be okay with it."

"Everybody said it was a joke and I should laugh about it. But it's not important. It doesn't happen a lot."

"Well, I think it's a very bad joke." For a moment Colt hesitated. He probably shouldn't do this, but ... "You know, if everybody thinks that pulling your hair is funny and doesn't deserve punishment, then I suppose it must also be funny if you slap the one who pulls your hair. Just a slap, doing something funny to them in return, not something that will make them bleed, or breaking their stuff or anything nasty, you understand?"

"Even if they punish me?"

"If hurting somebody is just a joke, then they won't punish you, and if they do, a single slap can't earn you a really bad punishment. At worst you'll have to write lots of lines, and you can stop slapping people after that, if the result isn't worth writing all those lines for. Now, tickling is a little more complicated, because some people like to be tickled, so I wouldn't just automatically slap everybody who does it. Not the first time. You can get angry, though. In fact you can always get angry, if somebody does something to you that you don't like. If they tickle you, or call you a name you don't like, or touch you in a way you don't like, or tell you how you should feel. Just shout at them that you don't like it and they should stop doing it. Then, if they tickle you again even though you've told them you don't like it, you can slap them, because they should know and respect your wish now."

"But I might get punished again," Hannah said a little nervously. "I don't want to be sent to the asylum."

"It's still just a little slap - though you shouldn't ever slap a teacher, that is only for classmates who don't respect your wishes - so it'll still not be a very big punishment. And ..." He really shouldn't tell this to a little girl that didn't want to be here, but she had to get people to accept her feelings somehow and she couldn't let fear of punishment stop her. "Do you know what the very worst punishment you can get here is?"

She shook her head. "I just ... well, if I'm not normal, people will think I need fixing and maybe then they'll send me to the asylum to make me be the right way."

"The asylum wouldn't take you, because you're not insane. It's only for insane people. The very worst thing they will do to you here is to expel you. That means that your parents have to come and get you, and the school won't ever take you back. They might just send you to another school, but since you're unhappy here anyway, I doubt that it could make things all that much worse."

"I suppose not. But it won't happen, if I just slap someone?"

"No, most likely you'll just be scolded, especially if it is the first time. The worst that seems likely is the writing lines. But remember to tell me if it makes people do more unpleasant things to you instead of less, okay? Then we have to think of something different to do."

She nodded.

"Good. Now, let's talk about not being grateful for being sent here and wanting to go back home."

She hung her head in shame.

"That is called being homesick. It is a completely normal thing, too, especially when one is still young and very far away from home. Have you ever noticed that yours is the smallest class at the Academy? And that the second year is a little bigger, but smaller than the third, which is smaller than the fourth? That isn't a coincidence. It's because a lot of children feel like you do and don't want to leave home yet. A year or two or three later they start wanting to see more of the world and have some adventures. It happens at different times for different people and your time hasn't come yet. Or it might also have something to do with this place being very unlike what you're used to, so you can't feel at home here. That happens. In fact, there's a really famous book about a girl called Heidi ... But no, don't read Heidi. It'd make you awfully sad to read about someone going through just the same thing you are. It's better if you read something funny that will make you forget about being homesick and make you laugh."

"You think?"

"Yes, I do. Why don't you go up to the library and ask Mrs. Henderson to recommend some funny books to you? I'm sure she knows all the best ones."

 

"That won't work," April said with a frown. "There isn't enough room for both the engine and the jumping mechanism in here. We'll have to move one of them elsewhere."

"But where?" Timothy asked with a frown of his own. "If we put it next doors it'll take away the storage room for the vehicles."

"We could stack the vehicles," Stephen suggested. "Have two of them on top of the others. Then that would free up the other side of the room."

"No," April said. "We need to be able to reach the vehicles quickly in battle. It wouldn't do to have to climb ladders to reach them, or to have to manoeuvre out of such tight spaces one at a time, if we have to launch the whole team. Besides, the engine noise would be unbearable for the robo-horses' fine ears. They'd flip out. The engine definitely must be installed in the engine room for sound isolation. The jumping mechanism can go somewhere else, anywhere where we can connect it properly."

"They'll both need supervising during the test," Stephen reminded her.

"So I'll watch one and you the other," April brushed that problem aside. "The big question is where we have room for it. We can't have it in the corridor outside the engine room. Thatâ€™d block our access to the room, especially if we need a station to monitor it at right next to it. We can't stand during the jump. That's too dangerous. We'll need seats with proper seat-belts."

"So why not have it on the bridge next to your normal station?" Timothy suggested. "That's very far from the engine, but we can run the cables right alongside those for the normal engine ... We'll have to connect the engine to the bridge anyway, or the driver won't be able to initiate the jump."

April shook her head. "It looks fine in vehicle mode, but there's nowhere up there that it'd be safe during the transformation sequence to robot mode and once in robot mode it'd be to far from the saddle units."

"But then the only place to put it is ..."

"The living quarters," April confirmed. "We'll use this room." She pointed at the one she currently slept in. "And move the bed and everything into the shared sitting room. The kitchen will serve just as well for socialising and relaxing. We just need to move the holoscreen into it somehow."

Yes, it would all work out. The new technology's addition to Ramrod was taking on a more concrete shape.

"I don't know, April," Timothy said doubtfully. "That seems like a very impractical location during battle. And there are no convenient cable ducts there. We'll have to make holes in some very odd places."

"It's only for the tests," Stephen pointed out. "Later we won't need to monitor the equipment and can do away with the extra saddle units. Besides, we'll probably improve the design over time. Once they get smaller, we can have both parts in the engine room after all."

Unfortunately things didn't work out quite that well once they started to adapt the drawings. Several changes to Ramrod's engines and thrusters would be required before the new engine would fit into the engine room and then there was the problem of altering the living section to get in the control station.

"It's no use," Timothy said finally. We'll have to take all the walls out, wire and assemble the station and then rebuild the walls around it."

April frowned at the schematics, but couldn't see any other alternative either.

"Let's have the control station over there to start with, then," she decided. "That puts it only just inside the living section at least. Then we'll have a wall here and the four cabins in a row there. They'll be a little smaller than before, but that can't be helped."

"We need a fifth cabin, though," Professor Toleda pointed out. "At least, I doubt that any of your team-mates will want to share such a tiny cabin with me and I can't sleep in the engine room."

"Well, if April doesn't want to share with you herself," Timothy said with a grin. "Maybe one of the other three normal crew members could be left behind for a mere test-flight? Surely you won't need the full battle-crew."

"We might if we happen to appear right in front of an Outrider battle-cruiser," April pointed out. "And since one of us has to be in the engine room and the other at the control station, I will already be missing on the bridge. If we do need to go into Challenge Phase I'll have to run up there first." She frowned at the schematics again. "And that means I have to be closer to it than either of those stations."

"Then you'll have to be at the control station," Professor Toleda agreed. "Much as I would have preferred to take that myself. If we put it over here, though, we can install a lift right next to it and you can be in your saddle unit in no time."

"Then we can have a smaller cabin on either side of it, but what do we do about the other three?"

"Put in another floor," Timothy suggested. "We could lower the ceiling in the storage rooms a little and have three levels instead of two. The ceilings will be a little low, but unless any of you are unusually tall ..."

"Well, Saber had better not wear his helmet in his cabin then," April giggled. "Not that he has any reason to. So we'll have the station, elevator and two cabins on the uppermost level to shorten the route to the bridge, three more cabins below that, then the kitchen at the end of the lowest corridor. It can get another elevator down into the storage room so that can double as a larder which means we need less storage room in the kitchen itself and can make it smaller. And there's room for another room above the kitchen now, so we will have a living room after all."

"We still need another elevator to get from one level to another," Professor Toleda pointed out.

"Let's just continue the one in the kitchen up into the living room," Timothy suggested. "It will make it smaller, but reduce the number of elevators, and there isn't anywhere else we can put it without reducing the size of the cabins even further. You do need to be able to lie down in those, don't you?"

"Excellent," April said. "Now let's just double check what it will look like in Challenge Phase before we start making the wiring plans."

"Your elevator will no longer work in Challenge Phase," Professor Toleda remarked when they changed the schematics.

"That's no problem," April returned. "I have to already be up there when we switch modes anyway, so I use the elevator, we change modes, fight, change back and then I can go down again using the elevator or the long way."

"But then," Professor Toleda said suddenly. "We can only jump dimensions again after you have won the fight and changed back, because you won't be there to monitor the control station until then. What if the enemy is too overpowering?"


	7. Sextember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saber finally opens up to somebody, Colt confides in a few students and Fireball ... well, he is looking for a confidence from Hannah, but that proves unexpectedly difficult and it isn't the only thing Fireball finds to be more difficult than expected either.

Chapter 7: Sextember

 

Fireball was in a bad mood when he checked in with Molly on Monday morning. April once again had not visited last night, nor had she picked up when he'd called the hangar. Of course he knew that she might be working on something noisy and be unable to hear the phone, or maybe she'd gone out to get something to eat before continuing her work - or maybe she'd been fast asleep with exhaustion - but he still thought that she should have called to say that she couldn't come. Didn't she want him to tell her that he loved her as much as he wanted to hear it from her?

"Still no car, I'm afraid," Molly told him."But I've got your new schedule worked out for when you get it back. You've got one new student to replace one of the car-wreckers."

"Ah, thank you, Molly," he said absent-mindedly. He didn't really care about schedules right now. "What about today?"

"Well, Saber's got another doctor's appointment, so you get to babysit that class ... and maybe start the one after that if he doesn't make it back before the bell."

Fireball frowned. "Do I have to teach them? I have no idea what he has planned."

In fact, he knew nothing about Saber's subjects other than that they were dead boring.

"Oh no, just keep them quiet and well behaved. Oh and if you happen to see your little clingy monkey ..."

"What Hannah?"

"Yes, Hannah. Could you maybe have some words about her behaviour with her? I have no idea what's changed all of a sudden. She used to be so meek and quiet, but over the weekend she punched one of her classmates on the nose, kicked another in the shin and hit an older girl in the stomach and at breakfast ... Well, she told those nice older girls that have been watching over her to 'Fuck off and leave me be.' Those were her exact words."

Fireball sighed. "Alright, I'll tell her off."

"Ah, no Fireball, that's not what I meant. She's already had a good scolding from the supervisor on duty. I thought that maybe you could ask her what's made her so angry all of a sudden. I know she's a spoilt little princess - rich parents, you know - but until now she's always used tears to get attention, not violence. Such a drastic change of behaviour ... well, usually there's some issue behind it that they don't know how to deal with. So if you could get her to tell you, what it is, we might be able to fix it."

Fireball sighed again. "You want Colt, not me. He's the Psychology teacher. But I'll give it a try. Maybe asking outright will help. She does insist on telling me every little thing that gets into her tiny mind anyway."

But getting hold of Hannah when he actually wanted her turned out to be a lot harder than he'd expected. She didn't dart out at him when he walked down the corridor her class was in, possibly because it was almost time for the first lesson to start and she was already at her desk setting up for it.

He spent an hour walking about, chatting with the janitor, drinking a cup of coffee with Molly, then wandered back into the high school corridor just before break.

The bell rang. Teachers came out of suddenly noisy classrooms followed by rushing students. Fireball noticed Jose darting down the corridor with two other boys, but there was no sign of Hannah.

He waited until the bell rang again and then returned to Molly.

"I didn't catch her yet, I'm afraid," he reported. "And I can't waste my time on her in the next break if I'm to supervise Saber's class on the third floor right afterwards. I'll take care of her at lunch or in the afternoon."

Molly nodded. "No need to hurry right to her side. Thatâ€™ll only reinforce her bad behaviour, if it's just another bid for attention. We do want her to realise that the universe doesn't revolve around her."

So shortly before the next break Fireball made his way upstairs to take over from Saber.

"You're my replacement?" Saber asked him with a hint of a smile while a boy that had apparently also been waiting for him looked on in silence.

"Yes, but I have no idea what to do with them. Am I supposed to teach them anything?"

"The usual: Generously permit them to do their homework," Saber said, "But it doesn't matter what they do as long as you keep them safely away from my desk. I've got some teaching materials in there that could be damaged if handled inexpertly."

And then he was off and the boy with him.

Fireball went inside and sat at Saber's desk. It made him feel naughty, like a schoolboy that had snuck into his teacher's chair while she was out of the room for a moment.

 

Against his initial expectations Saber actually liked the hospital trips better when he had to take Ian along. He'd never asked the boy why he had to go to the hospital about every second week and so far Ian had returned the favour, so Saber was beginning to trust that he always would. Perhaps Ian understood the wish to keep these things private?

"It probably isn't my place to ask this, but I noticed you've been looking awfully worried lately, Sir," the boy remarked once they were out on the highway, though. "If you'd like to talk about it ... Well, I might not be able to help, but telling somebody usually makes one feel better."

Alright, so maybe he didn't understand. Then again he hadn't actually mentioned the hospital, so maybe he didn't mean medical worries.

"That would be an indiscretion, I'm afraid, as it involves other people's private affairs - or confidential matters - most of the time."

"You could tell me without naming names," Ian suggested. "Or invent false names, so I'd never know who you're talking about."

"I ... " The doctor wanted him to share his problems with others, but Ian was a student.

"And you don't have to tell me all the details," the boy added. "We can all see that there's something troubling you, you know. And it's been troubling me. It's kind of worrying when you know war heroes are worried about something."

If he didn't Ian and his classmates would probably spend the next few days speculating about it and starting all sorts of crazy rumours.

"Alright, but you have to swear that you won't even hint at it to anybody else. The last thing I need is the whole school talking about me and my ... worries."

"Of course," Ian declared. "It all remains in this car."

Saber glanced over at him uncomfortably. What could he tell him? Definitely no military secrets or anything about his medical problem, but that left only ... he sighed.

"There's one more problem. I can't really hide identities in this. You'd still guess who I'm talking about pretty easily. It's too obvious. So I'll admit straight out that I'm worried about Fireball."

"Mr. Fireball?" Ian sounded surprised. "He always looked perfectly healthy to me. But of course I don't actually have him as a teacher and I won't tell anyone, so his students won't find out."

Ah, so the hospital had been on his mind after all. "It's not a health problem, or anything else that might be outwardly visible, just that he's not very happy at the moment. You see, ... normally, when we're out there patrolling or fighting in Ramrod, Fireball is my right hand. He's the one I rely on the most on my team."

"More than on Mr. Colt?"

That seemed to surprise the boy, but of course he only knew Colt's surprisingly mature teacher face.

"Yes, even more than Colt," Saber confirmed. "Colt is ... Colt is great at shooting and teaching, but ... he isn't officer material, I think. At least he's never shown any interest in taking on that sort of responsibility. In fact, he tends to find ways to avoid it. It rather surprised me that he took so well to being responsible for students, but I suppose it isn't quite the same. Maybe it's having to send people into battle where they might lose their lives. Perhaps he's only comfortable risking his own life and not those of others, or maybe he likes working with children or doesn't feel comfortable giving orders to adults. I haven't had any reason to ask since it isn't a problem. He's never wanted to be an officer, so why should I worry why he isn't showing the right attitude? Fireball has ambitions to higher rank, though, and always does his best at whatever task I set him. At least that's what I'm used to from him. Now, since we've been at the Academy I've found that there's a different side to both of them. In Colt's case it's a positive discovery. Teaching clearly suits him much better than I ever expected. He's doing a good job and seems perfectly content. Fireball on the other hand doesn't like it. He keeps saying that he wants to go back to patrolling and lately he's even been talking about returning to the racing carer he had before he joined the Star Sheriffs. I ... I'm worried that he might lose patience with this assignment and quit the service and there's nothing I can do about it, because Cavalry Command would never reassign us in the middle of the school year. It wouldn't be fair to our students to abandon them halfway through."

"But surely Mr. Fireball realises that, too," Ian pointed out. "And if he is really serious about his ambitions to become an officer he won't abandon them this easily."

"There's something else," Saber admitted. "Something unconnected that's adding to Fireball's unhappiness." That wasn't the exact truth, but close enough. "There also seems to be something wrong between him and his girlfriend. She's ... not spending as much time with him as she used to. She says it's because her work's keeping her very busy at the moment, and so far Fireball seems to believe it, but ... it's ... well, she is letting him down too often. Going back to racing would also be a good way to put some distance between himself and her. So if they should break up, I think, it might even be better for him to leave the service, but as a Star Sheriff I don't want to lose him after all the effort I put into training him. As his friend, on the other hand, I'm not sure whether I shouldn't encourage him to do what makes him happy."

"And yet you once told me that people's careers move on and that they change jobs. Doesnâ€™t that mean changing teams as well? Is Mr. Fireball really irreplaceable?"

Saber sighed. "Of course not. Nobody is irreplaceable. And I have always known that he wants to lead his own team eventually. I just ... have a duty to Cavalry Command to ... well, not lose it an excellent officer."

"If I thought something was the best thing for one of my friends to do, I'd encourage them to do it," Ian said. "Even if it meant I'd lose them. And you know, my friends from the orphanage still are my friends even if we only communicate by mail. If you try to make him stay, Mr. Fireball might decide that he needs to cut off contact with you, though."

Saber felt strangely relieved even though he didn't like Ian's conclusions.

"You are a lot wiser than you have any right to be at your age, Cadet Doe."

 

"Say, where is Cadet Doe?" Colt asked after a quick glance at the register.

It said that the whole class had been present in their last lesson. Now it was short one Ian Doe.

"Oh, he's gone to the hospital again," Max Hartford said.

"Sick rather often that one," Jason Evans sneered.

"Oh, shut up, Jason," Max snapped. "He's not sick at all. They're just fine tuning the settings of his hearing aid or something like that. Anyway, he's gone with Captain Rider, Sir. So you can ask him for confirmation, if you need to."

Colt nodded. He did know that Saber had another therapy session today. Interesting that he'd taken the boy along, though. Colt was aware of the interest Saber took in some of these students, but he hadnâ€™t known that they were aware of his therapy sessions. Or were they?

He started the lesson then casually leaned against the wall next to Max and Davie.

"Is Doe really sick a lot, or is Evans just being a prat again?"

Max shrugged. "He goes to the hospital two or three times a month, but I really think it's just about the hearing aid."

"I didn't know those need to be checked that often," Colt remarked. "That might get in his way if he wants to go out into the field."

Davie looked up in surprise. "But Ian said Captain Rider goes to the hospital just as often and not to drive Ian. He goes to see some doctor, too."

"Yeah, but he says he goes to the psychology department," Max said. "Lots of people see psychologists just for fun. There's no problem with skipping that."

"Actually," Colt said casually. "That's why we're grounded at the moment. But don't go around talking about it. I bet Saber wouldn't like people like Evans to know anything about his private life. He's a pretty private person."

"Yeah, I bet Jason would find something nasty to imply about it," Davie sneered.

"Why'd a psychologist ground you?" Max asked.

Colt shrugged again. "Oh, nothing much, just ... It's a though job you know and during the war we missed out on a lot of holidays and now we're all mentally and physically exhausted. Saber as the team leader was under so much pressure that ... well, the psychologist declared that he needs a rest." He glanced meaningfully at Max. "Thatâ€™s why I try to handle such minor things as students in trouble for him at the moment, you know. Just trying to keep his rest restful. So, if you happen to have any problems, I'd thank you if you could take them to me and tell Saber that youâ€™re fine so he can stick to resting."

 

"There's something troubling you, too, isn't there?" Saber asked Ian as they drove back towards the Academy.

"Nothing that I can't work out," Ian assured him. "And nothing serious. I'm still contemplating my professional future. You don't think becoming a spy is the best choice for me and that makes me wonder. Perhaps you do know better than the people who advised me at the orphanage. None of them actually had been spies as far as I know."

Saber sighed. He hadn't meant to tell this to anyone but he was worried for Ian.

"You know where I go at the hospital?"

"I can read," Ian said. "But it is none of my business and there are too many possible reasons to make any assumptions."

"Because I have to or I'll never be allowed on another mission again. Because they tell me I can't handle the stress anymore, if I don't learn a new way of coping with it. And if I don't cope with it, they tell me I'll go insane."

"That's rather scary, isn't it?" Ian said staring out at the desert landscape rushing past them. "Not exactly what I'd think is conductive to reducing stress."

"No," Saber admitted. "But I don't think I'd have gone along with it if they hadn't been blunt about that. I've always managed to cope with stress fine, you see - the way I learned to do it as a spy. I don't want you to end up in the same predicament someday. Are you willing to risk your sanity when you could just as well be an ordinary soldier and risk only your life?"

Ian was silent for a long time contemplating this, but when the Academy came into view and they both knew their ride was almost over he finally spoke.

"I might not live that long," he said. "You are right that I thought my life was all that I was risking and it's not worth much."

"Not worth much?" Saber repeated incredulously. "Listen, I know you don't have parents or other family to grieve for you if you get killed, but you do have a lot of friends. Maybe you ought to ask them how they'd feel if you were killed."

"I can't help it," Ian said. "I have a hereditary disease that ... Well, it is under control right now, but it might flare up again and kill me at any time. Any children that I might have would be at risk of inheriting it, or if they don't, of losing their father to it much too soon. That's why I always thought it would be best for me to work alone, to do something for my people. Dying to defend them sounded like a good way to ... make my death worth something."

"But now the war is over," Saber pointed out. "And you have other talents that might be a better service to the world than spying in peace times and possibly dying before you have to."

"Do I have other talents?" Ian asked. "I've never tried to find out. I suppose I could try now, though. I guess it will be easier to make up my mind how I can be useful if I know."

Saber nodded as he parked the car. "Do that."

But Ian didn't get out right away. He sat and looked at Saber thoughtfully and then said: "Now, you've told me your secret and I've told you mine, I take it we'll both keep silent?"

"As Star Sheriffs and especially spies ought to know how," Saber agreed.

"And perhaps we can keep doing that?" Ian suggested. "Trade confidences that we want off our chests on these rides, I mean. It might help."

 

"What in the world is going on here?"

Fireball flinched at the sharp tone in Saber's voice and took a look around him trying to see the situation from the perspective of someone just walking in. Maybe they had made a bit of a mess of Saber's classroom?

"We're just having a little competition," he explained. "Target practise, you know?"

"By ... throwing chalk at the blackboard?" Saber asked.

"So there'd be a clear mark to show exactly where you hit it," a student Fireball thought was called Liu explained.

"What exactly did you ... all of you, including you, Fireball, think we have a shooting range for? Equipped with blasters and proper targets? Really Fireball, I'm surprised you let them get away with this. I know class 14 is a hand-full and far from the most mature in this school, but I should have expected better from a fully grown Star Sheriff."

"We never get to have proper competitions at the shooting range," Liu backed Fireball up. Professor Colt is such a bore."

"Professor Colt is a responsible teacher who is doing all he can to mould you into proper Star Sheriffs," Saber snapped. "I expect he has good reasons not to let you have childish competitions. Your behaviour, noise and the mess you made in here seem pretty good ones to me. Clean it up. Silently!" Saber ordered.

"But Saber," Fireball interceded. "Can't we just quickly finish this round? Then I can announce a winner and ..."

"There are," Saber informed him coldly. "Exactly three minutes left of this lesson. After that these cadets will have to rush off to their next class. I don't think it's fair to make them stay after to clean up a mess that you, a teacher, permitted them to make, and get demerits from their next teacher for being late. Neither would it be fair to make my next class clean up a mess they had nothing to do with, and I also don't see why I should have to put up with cleaning it up myself. Or with teaching in such a messy classroom, not to mention how unfair it would be to leave it for the cleaning staff. So, shall we make class 14 clean up now, or do you want to do it by yourself during the five minutes break? You definitely are responsible for it," Saber hissed.

"I ..." Fireball looked down at the floor and for the first time noticed the crushed pieces of chalk all over it. Apparently some of the ammunition had fallen there and been stepped on. "We didn't have anything else to do," he explained meekly. "And it was an awful lot of fun. I didn't realise we were making a mess."

"And I expect you didn't notice the noise either," Saber asked. "There are other teachers teaching in the neighbouring classrooms, Fireball. Do you realise how much all the squealing and shouting must have disrupted their lessons?"

"I ... um ..." No, he hadn't noticed the noise. He was only noticing its sudden absence now.

"At least we had fun in this class for once," Liu supported him once again. "Usually this is the most boring lesson in the whole week."

"Some things are boring, but nevertheless important, Cadet Chang," Saber snapped.

"And some teachers are just incapable of making anything interesting," Liu snapped back.

"You make clean blackboard interesting then," some other student said handing her a wet sponge. "Stop talk. Make work."

That earned the first hint of a smile from Saber since he had entered the classroom, but when he looked back at Fireball, he was frowning again.

"I'm sorry," Fireball assured him. "I'm just not cut out for this teaching stuff. I ... I'll ... just go now."

He slipped out of the classroom as inconspicuously as possible. He'd just slink out to the parking lot for a while. Being alone with his turbo was just what he needed right now.

If he could just get out onto the road and ...

"There you are, Fireball," Molly exclaimed as he passed her office. "Have you talked with Hannah yet?"

"No, I haven't seen her all day."

"Well, she's in the headmaster's office right now. She punched a second year girl in the face sending her to the nurse with a nosebleed."

Fireball sighed. Just what he needed right now. "Why?"

Molly shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't get a chance to ask either of them. Please talk to her. She likes you better than me."

"Alright," he agreed. "I just hope I don't mess this up as well. This really isn't my day."

"Oh nonsense," Molly said. "It's a talk with a little girl. What could possibly go wrong with that?"

Since Molly insisted Fireball stayed until Hannah came out of General WhiteHawke's office, head held high and lips pressed tightly together. He was quite surprised to see that she wasn't crying for once.

"Hannah?" he said as gently as he could manage.

"Don't," she said.

"Don't what?" He hadn't done anything, had he?

"Leave me be," she told him. "I'm not crying anymore, am I? But I feel the way I do. Don't try to change that and you won't have to bother with me anymore."

"But Hannah," Fireball said perplexed. "They tell me you've been hurting people."

"I got into some fights. I wouldn't have, if people would just leave me alone. I don't see why they don't. They don't like me anyway, so all they have to do is keep away."

"Hannah, if you keep fighting ..."

"I'll be expelled and sent home, I know. People have been telling me all day. And you know what? I'm not scared of that!" she yelled, turned around and ran away.

Fireball was left standing in Molly's office gaping after her.

"What in the world?"

Molly sighed, then shrugged.

"Oh well," she said. "You tried. I'm sure we'll get through to her eventually. Or maybe she's just having an odd phase and will calm down in a day or two. These young children often do."

"But what should I do now?" Fireball asked. "Should I go after her and try to comfort her, or should I do as she says and leave her alone?"

"Well," Molly said thoughtfully. "My theory concerning her behaviour so far is that she's a drama queen. She always wants to be the centre of attention. When she found she could no longer get it by crying she turned to misbehaving. Going after her would give her the attention she wants and reinforce that behaviour. If we ignore her however, she'll see that it isn't working, and think of something else. If we're lucky it'll be excelling academically. That is behaviour that we can enforce."

Fireball nodded relieved. Her explanation didn't quite fit in with what Hannah had told him in the past, but Molly had a lot more experience with children than he and not having to deal with Hannah's problems on top of everything else right now was a relief. Surely Molly was right.

 

Colt was locking up the shooting range for the day, Psychology textbook under his arm to prepare for the next day's lessons, when a little girl appeared by his side.

"Hi!" the child said.

"Hi yourself," Colt replied wondering what this was supposed to lead up to.

"I'm Beatice," the girl introduced herself.

"Yes, I remember. You're in the first high school year." "Yes," the girl confirmed. "Jose says his friend Ian says we shouldn't bother Captain Rider with any problems," she offered as if that were the obvious thing for a first year to do. "And his friend Tuesday said you're good with those."

"Cad ... Mr. Omawombe said that?"

Beatrice nodded. "Tuesday likes to help people with their problems, but he already tried and Hannah won't let him, so he said he thinks we need someone with more experience. And he says you're really wise."

"Thank you," Colt sad dryly. He hadn't thought he'd made much of an impression on Tuesday Omawombe so far.

"Well, anyway, Hannah's one of my dorm-mates. And she's always crying. We tried to make her stop, because Captain Rider said to be nice and help her, but she wouldn't. She's always been good and did what we told her to in every other way until now, though."

"And do you think that's a good thing?" Colt probed.

"Why of course," Beatrice declared. "We've been teaching her to do things right, you see. Because she's all weird and childish and doesn't know stuff. She'd do it all wrong, if we didn't help her. Or not do them at all. And we've been doing things for her when she wouldn't, even though she's never properly grateful for that. But that's not the problem, you see. We were doing fine with that and we'd have taught her not to cry in time. But now, all of a sudden she won't do what we tell her anymore. She keeps telling us to go away and if we don't she hits us. She's already been sent to the headmaster's office for it, but she still won't stop."

"Beatrice, why are you here?" Colt asked.

"Why to ask you to ... well either to tell me what to do to make Hannah stop hitting people, or ... if you don't think I can do that, I thought that maybe you could talk to her yourself?"

"No, I meant why are you at this school in the first place?"

"Why because I want to become a Star Sheriff like my father," Beatrice said. "What's that got to do with it?"

"And do you know why your friends are here?"

"Why, they want to become Star Sheriffs, too. Everybody here wants to become a star Sheriff. Well, except for Tuesday. Jose says he wants to become a priest."

"Yes, and do you know why Hannah is here?"

"Why because she wants to be a Star Sheriff, of course."

"Has she told you so?" In fact, had the others? Did the little children really all want to be Star Sheriffs?

"Well no, not actually, but why else, would she have decided to come here?"

Colt smiled. "See, there's the root of your problem. It just so happens that I talked with Hannah a few weeks ago, and she told me she never decided to come here at all. Her parents sent her even though she'd have chosen her local high school."

"But why would they do that? And why wouldn't Hannah want to come here?"

"I don't know why her parents did that. I hope that they had a very good reason, though, because if they didn't it was really cruel to Hannah."

"But it is the best school there is!" Beatrice protested. "Why wouldn't Hannah want to come here?"

"Well, maybe like Mr. Omawombe she has another career in mind rather than becoming a Star Sheriff. But what I think is much more likely is that she doesn't have any career in mind at all. What she kept saying was that she wanted to go home, not that she wanted to become this or that. That makes me think that ... Say Beatrice, how many students of your age are there at the school at the moment? Do you know?"

"Of course! There are 24."

"And do you know how many Cadets there are in the actual Star Sheriff classes?"

Beatrice frowned. "No, but there are lots and lots of them."

"There are 720. There are 720 every year. And do you know how old they are?"

"Fifteen."

"Yes, so we have 23 ten year olds that want to be star Sheriffs and 720 fifteen year olds. And that's not really the actual number, because not everybody that wants one can get a place at fifteen. Why do you think that is?"

"24 ten year olds. You forgot to count me."

"No, I didn't. I didn't include Hannah, because we know she isn't here because she wants to be a Star Sheriff. But why do you think there are so many more fifteen year olds than ten year olds?"

"Maybe because there aren't as many places for ten year olds. There's only one class."

"There are 30 places in that class and only 24 are taken. Six more students could have come, if they'd wanted to, but they didn't."

"Maybe their parents didn't want them to go away? My Mama cried when I left."

"Yes, that is one reason, but there is another very important one. You see most ten year olds haven't made up their minds what they want to be when they grow up. And that is completely okay. It is a very important decision that one has to take time to make. You have already decided that a Star Sheriff is what you want to be, but then you have a father that is one and can tell you all about it. I think Hannah is like most other children and doesn't feel ready to make that big choice yet. When her parents sent her here it felt like they were not just forcing her to choose before she could, but actually making the choice for her and that made her angry. She wanted to stay at home until she was ready to choose for herself. Then she arrived here and everybody kept telling her that she is supposed to want to be a Star Sheriff, because her parents sent her here, and to like this school, because it gives her the chance to become one, that she must be happy, that she must do and think and feel this and that. That made her more and more angry. Back at home she didn't know whether she wanted to be a Star Sheriff or not, but now she most likely doesn't want to become one, because everybody is trying to force her into it and won't let her choose for herself. Do you understand that, Beatrice?"

"I suppose."

"Good. Then I suppose you can also see that everything else you try to make Hannah do now, whether to stop crying or to stop hitting people or even just drink some water, will make her more angry and less inclined to do it? Even if she happens to be thirsty and would have liked to drink that water if you hadn't told her to drink?"

"So what should we do?"

"Leave her alone. Don't make her do anything, even if you think she's doing the wrong thing. Let her do what she wants even if it is stupid. Sooner or later, when she stops feeling so angry, she'll realise that it's stupid herself."

"But if she's thirsty and not getting something to drink, shouldn't I ..."

"Well, if you think she must be thirsty and she doesn't look like she's going to get herself something to drink, you could say 'Hey Hannah, I'm going to get myself something to drink. Do you want to come along?' Then she can choose to get something as well without feeling you're trying to make her do it, because you've only asked for her company."


	8. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saber takes extreme disciplinary measures with not quite the consequences he expected, but April doesn't expect the reaction she gets to her latest announcement either.

Chapter 8: September

 

It felt good to finally have his car back and give driving lessons again. After his experience standing in for Saber, Fireball had had to accept that he was not made to teach classes. Students in hordes like that were awfully hard to manage. Just how did Colt do it?

As for his new driving students, well he'd been told that they were considered quiet and generally well mannered by their other teachers, but Fireball still made sure they were sufficiently cowed from the start.

It might not have been the best idea where Tanya, a pale, dark haired girl from the poly-technical class was concerned, but he only realised that too late.

After being thoroughly admonished what she was not to do under any circumstances and threatened with expulsion she first claimed she was afraid to start the car, failed to do it in her first five attempts and after she finally got it running drove so slowly and carefully that it made Fireball want to scream with frustration.

Still, he had the car back and Tanya was not likely to send it back for repairs. Fireball doubted she'd manage to pass the exam and get her license with only the usual amount of lessons, but that wasn't really his problem as long as he gave her the number of lessons she'd signed up for. If anybody did complain, he'd simply tell them that he'd done what he could, but some students simply needed more lessons than others. Tanya had no talent for driving and she didn't act like she really wanted to learn either.

Another good change in his life was that it seemed like he was rid of Hannah for good.

He'd seen her walking through the school several times since their conversation in Molly's office, always going along briskly, alone and with a scowl on her face, but she had never approached him or even so much as nodded a greeting.

Nor had anybody asked him to talk to her again, even though he'd seen her threaten to kick a boy who'd asked whether he could sit next to her at lunch. She always sat alone now, but at least she no longer cried on him. Let somebody else deal with her then.

 

The mess Fireball had made of supervising his class had originally angered Saber a lot, but once things calmed down and he could return to his usual classroom routine he caught himself thinking of it not only with highly improper amusement, but, even worse, with a certain malicious glee. While this group of students had given him more trouble than most he had never lost control of them so completely that they had messed up his classroom.

Perhaps he wasn't a complete failure as a teacher after all.

It was very wrong for him to feel joy at somebody else's failure, especially a friend's, but he couldn't help himself. He'd been feeling so awful about his total lack of success with the students when Colt had been doing so well, but now ... Well, it didn't seem like his failure was all that total after all.

So what if he hadn't managed to stir up any proper interest in weapons theory in any of his students? They did at least grudgingly sit through and listen to the lessons and they never had demolished the classroom before. If he thought back to his own Academy days he had to admit that few of his classmates had done more than that either. Perhaps he wasn't actually worse than his own teachers had been. Perhaps it was just that these students training in a time of peace, had less motivation to be as serious about it as he and some of his classmates had been.

They'd study for the tests and remember enough to get by, just as all those other uninterested students in his own time had.

On the other hand something felt wrong about this class. They were simply too quiet and focussed today. Well, all except Cadet Jason Evans, of course.

"Cadet Evans, could you please take your feet off the desk?" Saber requested with a sigh.

Evans looked at him, grinned and did nothing.

"Do you realise that a Star Sheriff is supposed to have discipline?" Saber tried again. "If you actually intend to become a cowboy ... well, I suppose you'd better ask Mr. Colt. He can tell you how much slouching is acceptable to employers and where to find them."

"Why would I want to be a stinking cowboy?" Evans demanded.

"You're acting like one."

"He means cowboys sit with their feet on the table and Star Sheriffs don't," Ian Doe translated. "And you're getting the desk dirty. Somebody else might want to take notes on it later and won't appreciate the mud on his book."

"I mean take your feet off your desk and do some work, Cadet Evans," Saber said.

"I don't feel like it," Evans returned with a grin.

"Do you really want to get expelled?" Cadet Jonassen asked him. "Come on, Jason, at least pretend to work."

"Pretend not make you pass," Cadet Ahmeidi commented. "Better really work."

"An excellent recommendation," Saber endorsed, though he couldn't keep a straight face entirely as he said it.

Nevertheless he was surprised when the rest of the class started to laugh.

"Come on, Jason," Max Hartford said. "I thought we all agreed we were going to make an effort to be good and actually pay attention today."

"I never agreed to anything," Jason Evans retorted.

"So you're going to single-handedly ruin all our efforts?" Ian asked.

He was right, Saber realised with a start. This class obviously did include several students that were willing to learn what he had to teach them, even if none of them were enthusiastic about it. But they had no chance to make any progress, because instead of teaching them Saber kept trying to get the attention of the rest of the students.

"Actually, I have had enough of this," Saber declared more angry at himself than at the students. "Sit there if you will, Evans. I'm going to teach the rest of this class now."

And he did. After about five minutes of being ignored, Jason Evans took his feet off the desk. Saber felt a moment of triumph, though it had not been his intention to manipulate Jason into obeying.

The moment was short-lived anyway as Evans then proceeded to pull Jonassen's notes away, turn over pages in his book at random and finally dump the book on top of the notes and hold it fast when Jonassen tried to remove it so he could take more notes.

"Cut that out, Jason," Jonassen grumbled, but Evans only grinned and continued his efforts.

Saber gave up ignoring the disruptive student. It might be admitting defeat, but he had a responsibility towards students who were making an effort to learn, even if they were only Bran Jonassen.

"Cadet Evans, pack up your stuff and go see the headmaster."

Evans stared at him open-mouthed.

"I hate to do this, Evans. I hate to waste General WhiteHawk's time and with something as useless as a student that we all know will never make a good or even remotely acceptable Star Sheriff. I have a duty to handle my classes and not just dump every problem on him, but I also have a duty towards my students, the army and the New Frontier! And that duty is to teach these promising future Star Sheriffs the best I can to prepare them for their future duties! I refuse to let you prevent me from fulfilling that duty any longer! So. Get. The Hell. Out. Of my class! Out!"

Saber only realised he'd shouted after Jason Evans had run from the room ... leaving his bag and the book on his desk behind.

The class stared at Saber in silence and for a moment he was scared hat he would cry as he had after his first breakdown.

But after a few steadying breaths he found that he felt in control of himself again.

"I apologise for my outburst," he told the class no longer angry but feeling quite humiliated. "I should not have shouted."

"Didn't your teachers ever shout?" Davie Quinto asked wide-eyed.

"I don't think I've ever had one that didn't at least once," Jonassen volunteered.

"I think," Ian Doe mused. "All teachers do sometimes. At least they all do with Jason. It might be that he doesn't understand anything else."

Saber shook his head. "I should not shout at you. I should not have to. You aren't little children. In less than a year you will be out there doing your duty with blasters in your hands. How can you do that if you cannot be reasonable about doing your school-work?"

They stared at him wide-eyed as if they'd never thought about it before.

"You meant it, didn't you?" Jonassen asked. "Jason really won't make it as a Star Sheriff."

"I don't know. Co ... I've heard some of my colleagues say that he is just immature and will grow out of it, but if he doesnâ€™t before he graduates he certainly won't be fit to perform his duties as a Star Sheriff. It probably won't make that big a difference to his future commanding officer whether he can take his blaster apart or not, but it will make a difference whether he is willing to do his duty even if it is unpleasant. It wouldn't be safe to let him out into the streets with a blaster the way he is acting now. He might hurt someone. And I doubt he'd find a desk job appealing enough to actually do it. Then what could Cavalry Command do with him? But hopefully General WhiteHawke will know how to get through to him. Don't you worry about it in any case, it isn't your problem and we have work to do."

 

Colt noted with satisfaction that Fireball looked less stressed when he got home that evening. Something seemed to be bothering Saber, though.

So he casually asked him: "Something wrong?" at dinner.

"What?" Saber looked up at him all innocent surprise. "Oh no, in fact I had a particularly pleasant experience today."

"Oh really?" Colt asked happily. "What happened?"

"Well, you know class 13? They tend to be so disinterested."

"Actually, they are a rather rowdy group at the shooting range," Colt said. "But I think it's really only Jonassen and Evans that make enough noise for the whole class. The rest are no more troublesome than any other class. In fact, Doe's one of the finest, most mature students I have."

Something passed over Saber's face at that. What was that about?

"Yes, I quite like Doe myself," Saber said however. "And Hartford and Quinto as well. But ... well, my subjects are petty dry and it always seemed like they didn't want to listen to boring facts. Today they actually declared an interest in learning them, however. That ... well, it pleases me. It shows that they are growing up after all."

"All of them?" Colt asked a little surprised. He had not noticed any signs of improvement in Jason Evans so far.

"Well," Saber sighed. "All except Evans. I had to send him to the headmaster because he kept sabotaging the lesson and ..." he stopped helplessly. "I wish I could have dealt differently with him, but it was costing us precious class-time when everybody else was really willing to learn for once. It didn't seem fair to them that I should waste their time on Evans."

Colt nodded. "And now you're beating yourself up over it, because you know that he's already been sent to General WhiteHawke so often that every further time might be the final straw that leads to his expulsion. I ... well, I won't lie to you, I'd rather he wasn't expelled. I don't want another Jesse Blue, but on the other hand judging from his record even Jesse was never that deliberately provocative. It's like Evans wants to be expelled."

"What do you mean Jesse wasn't provocative?" Fireball demanded sharply.

"Not deliberately," Colt corrected "He was terribly arrogant, thought he was entitled to special treatment, but he did his assignments and judging from his grades he studied quite a lot, too. He never got completely out of line until his assault on April. Evans keeps asking for it and sooner or later he will have to face the consequences. We can't protect him from those."

"I suppose so and like I said it is unfair to his classmates to let him steal so much class-time, but I still don't want to be the reason he is expelled. I keep thinking I should be able to bring him around."

That was quite an impressive confession for Saber and Colt decided not to crush it even though Jason Evans was not the best project for Saber to take on at this time.

"I'm certainly doing whatever I can to help him," he said instead. "But the boy is making it very difficult and I am worried what sort of Star Sheriff someone like him will make. Perhaps he really would be better off elsewhere. Talking about students who want to be expelled, though, how's Hannah doing, Fireball?"

Fireball frowned. Interesting, though not good news. What was wrong there?

"I don't know. She's been a real little terror lately from what I've heard and she's decided she doesn't like me anymore. Molly says she's just trying to get attention and the best thing to do is ignore her so she'll realise this isn't a way to get it."

Get attention? Good God! Were they all blind? He'd thought Molly was good with the children.

"She's not," he told Fireball.

"What?"

"She's not trying to get attention. She's homesick. Her parents sent her away too soon and now she's feeling abandoned and put under pressure to fit into a world that doesnâ€™t want her. If I could, I'd call her parents and tell them to come fetch her home for another year or two and then ask her whether she actually wants to be a Star Sheriff. The way things are going she'll probably insist on becoming a house-wife just to spite us all."

"Well, you deal with her then," Fireball snapped. "Iâ€™m glad to be rid of the spoilt little brat."

Poor Hannah. But then she probably was better off without Fireball's clumsy and clueless attempts to help her.

 

It was quite a relief for Saber to find that Fireball was apparently getting a little more comfortable teaching. Maybe they would get through this school year after all. In fact, after the experience of a whole class declaring they wanted to learn what he had to teach, Saber himself was feeling almost good about it.

Maybe someday when he was no longer fit enough for active duty he could return to teaching here. He'd try to get at least one more interesting subject of course, but he supposed he could settle for the ones he had now.

His first class that morning was almost unnaturally quiet, which was pleasant at first, but turned spooky after a while. When the second one acted just the same, Saber began to feel seriously worried. Whatever could be wrong?

Finally at the beginning of the third lesson one usually cheeky girl raised a trembling hand.

"Please, Sir," she asked when he called on her. "Is it true that you expelled Jason Evans?"

Saber almost blinked.

"I do not have the authority to expel anyone, Cadet. Only the headmaster does."

Another hand rose into the air so he called on that student.

"Is it true that you asked the headmaster to expel Jason then?"

"No, it's not," Saber said, but when he saw the first girl raise her hand again he decided to continue. "I did send Cadet Evans to the headmaster yesterday, but not with the intention to have him expelled. It was merely supposed to be by way of reprimand and to stop him from hindering his classmates' learning. If he has been expelled, it was due to his misbehaviour and not my influence. And now let's get back to our subject."

"But Sir!" a boy piped up.

"Don't, Chris!" his neighbour hissed. "That's exactly how Jason got expelled."

Saber had to force back a laugh.

"Not quite. While speaking out of turn is disruptive Cadet Evans did quite a bit more than that to be sent to the headmaster and being sent to the headmaster once does not usually result in expulsion. I would prefer if you did raise your hand, though."

The boy blushed and did, so Saber nodded at him mostly to acknowledge the improved behaviour. He didn't really want to continue this discussion. At least not before he had spoken with Molly or WhiteHawke.

"Are you going to use your influence to get him allowed back in, then?"

"I will inquire whether and if so why Cadet Evans was expelled," Saber promised. "But expelling a student is the headmaster's right and not mine and he does not use it lightly. Cadet Evens has done a lot more than just disrupt my lessons, so I doubt that that is the main reason if he really has been expelled. In that case it is not my place to speak out against the decision."

"But it ..."

"That is all I have to say on the matter Cadet Pavlow. Now let's get back to work."

 

 

It had been two or three weeks since she had last visited the boys and April felt that she owed it to them to inform them of the changes to their living quarters on-board Ramrod in person.

"So we'll have five cabins permanently?" Colt asked with a frown. "We only need four."

"A spare cabin for passengers might be useful at times," Saber said to her relief. "I don't mind that part. What I'm worried about is the changed schedule. Will Ramrod even be ready in time for the end of the school year?"

This question surprised April. She'd known that Fireball was eager to return to normal field duty, but had never expected such impatience from Saber. Usually he was much more stoic than that, and he'd always maintained that the training of the cadets was one of the most important duties of Cavalry Command. Now there wasn't even a war to take precedence, just boring, mindless patrolling.

"According to the current schedule it'll be a little more than a week later, but what's the rush? It'll still be well before the start of the next school year. So no need to worry that you'll be stuck teaching another year."

Was she only imagining it or had Saber actually blushed slightly at that?

"I merely assumed that your father would be eager to see us back on duty and I know that Fireball certainly is," he claimed.

Fireball smiled at her. "I miss you, April. We see so little of each other these days."

"I've been awfully busy," she admitted. "And I'm afraid the conversion won't help that, but I promise you that it'll be worth it. Just imagine being able to follow the Outriders into their own dimension."

"And," Colt said with a grin. "You realise what? April can't live on-board Ramrod while they're working on the cabins. She'll have nowhere to sleep. So what do you think of you and me sharing a room and April moving in with us. It mightn't be the same as working together all day, but ..."

Oh no, she hadn't even thought of that option! And for a good reason at that. She hated this tiny flat and thought it was already overcrowded with three people living in it. She definitely didn't want to be the fourth.

It hurt to see Fireball's face light up and having to tell him ...

"Oh no, boys! I couldn't do that! This place is too small for four," she said hastily. "And besides I've already made other arrangements that will be much more practical."

Now all three looked disappointed. Even Saber! Disappointed! What the hell was wrong with him?

"Um, April, could we talk about this in private for a moment?" he asked and nodded towards his room.

Well, maybe that was a good idea. Then she could ask him what was wrong and wouldn't have to worry about hurting Fireball's feelings.

But before she could say anything, Saber had closed the door and turned on her.

"Whatâ€™s the matter, April? If you want to end it with Fireball ..." he cut off very suddenly.

"What? No! Whatever gave you that idea?" she gasped.

"Well, let's see. You hardly ever visit us anymore and you don't see him separately either. You keep all your phone-calls as short as possible, and now that you finally have a chance to move in with us for a little while, you actually choose somewhere else. Are you seeing another man, April? One of your engineers perhaps?"

"What?" she gasped.

It had never occurred to her. In fact ... well, surely it hadn't to Fireball either. Her relationship with her team members was completely innocent. Yes, she admired Stephen and there had been that one kiss in a moment of excitement, but it was his skill and knowledge as an engineer that she admired it had nothing to do with his ... well, attractive looks.

No, what she felt for him was nothing like what she felt for Fireball, or Saber.

"Fireball is miserable, April," Saber told her. "He hates teaching, he misses the action, and he misses you. There's no way to help two of these problems, but you could give him a little more attention and reassure him that you love him."

"He knows that!"

"Does he?"

"I ..."

"Reconsider it. Maybe you can still change your arrangements without offending anyone. It would do Fireball good. ... And that would take a big weight off my shoulders as well."

April swallowed. She didn't want to move into this horrid flat, but to tell Saber now would probably give him the wrong idea. He might not understand that it was the flat he had picked rather than Fireball's attentions that she disliked and they had initially been grounded because Saber needed to learn to talk about his problems and wasn't that exactly what he was doing right now?

"I'll try," she promised.

She'd just tell him that it hadn't been possible in a week or two.

 

Fireball couldn't believe this was happening. April seemed not to want to have anything to do with him anymore. How could this be? Sure, she'd always been in love with Saber, even after she'd accepted that he didn't return her feelings. Fireball had always known that, had accepted that he was only her second choice, but he knew Saber, knew that he wasn't interested in April and would never get between them even if he should change his mind.

Saber was too honourable for that and Fireball knew it. They were friends.

But what if there was somebody else in the game now? That Professor Toleda she always spoke of so highly? Fireball had never met him. Would he respect a stranger's prior claim? Did he even know of Fireball's prior claim? What if April hadn't even told him? What if she'd started it? If she'd lost interest in him and was now in love with this stranger, should he, could he, let her go?

Then again, he'd had doubts about their relationship before. He'd wondered whether he really was ready to settle down with her, worried what he'd do if she wanted to have children, but the thought of losing her entirely was extremely painful, especially now when he was already stuck living a life and doing a job he hated. It seemed like there was nothing left of the life he'd been used to. How had it all fallen apart? Where had it all disappeared to?

But it hadn't really disappeared he reminded himself.

He still had his Red Fury Turbo. He just couldn't race it or use it in battle at the moment. The chance would come back soon enough when they returned to active duty.

He still had Colt and Saber close by, though neither was quite himself right now. They would probably return to what he was used to from them as soon as they were back on active duty as well. At least he hoped so. The thought of Colt remaining so unnaturally grown up and responsible and Saber ... Saber continuing to be considered the team's weak point ... It wasn't true anyway. They were all deluding themselves. Saber was strong. He was the biggest hero of the Outrider war after all. No, this nightmare would pass. Everybody would realise the truth soon.

He still had April. She hadn't ended it yet at least and once they went back on active duty all that engineering nonsense would disappear from their lives again and any handsome engineers with it.

What he didn't have right now was Ramrod, but he wasnâ€™t far away. As soon as the upgrades were complete, Ramrod would be back. Everything would be alright, Fireball told himself, rolled over and tried to force himself to sleep.

 

The day turned out to be stressful for Colt. Not that he had expected everything to go smoothly after April's announcement the last evening. He was prepared for Fireball to be particularly unhappy and complain about everything all through breakfast. He couldn't really blame the poor boy either. The way April had been treating him since their reassignments really was cruel and that she wasn't actually aware of what she was doing to him didn't make it any easier for Fireball.

What he hadn't expected was to be left alone with the unhappy racer because Saber had to get to the Academy early to look into some matter that he didn't want to explain to either of them. He'd seemed to be getting a little better at talking about his problems lately, but this worried Colt. However Fireball needed consoling and Saber was out the door before Colt could get him to say anything more on the subject.

So Colt just had to save that problem for later and focus on getting Fireball into a condition in which he would at least be tolerable for his students.

And after that he had to see to his own students, some of whom were just as troubled, but who came in larger numbers at a time.

At least his first lesson today was Psychology and there would be no danger of life-threatening accidents if he didn't have everybody in sight at every moment. Teaching Shooting was more draining due to that.

Class 14 filed in looking unenthusiastic as usual. They moved a lot faster on the shooting range.

Hassan Ahmeidi's scowl however was a lot more pronounced than the expectation of a boring lesson could explain and he slammed his bag down so vehemently that Cadet Chang who sat next to him started at the sudden impact. Liu Chang was not a girl to be startled easily.

"Do you really dislike my subject this much, Cadet Ahmeidi?" Colt asked. "I know it's not the most exciting, but I'd hoped I'd made it just a little interesting."

Ahmeidi looked embarrassed.

"No, Psychology fine. It useful. I study hard. I promise. I just angry at Tuesday."

Colt glanced at the calendar on his desk demonstratively. "It's Monday, Cadet Ahmeidi. Why are you angry at Tuesday on Monday morning?"

The class laughed at that.

"He means Tuesday Omawombe from the poly-technical class, Sir," Cadet Chang explained. "He's been making comments about Mohammed being a 'false prophet' whatever that's supposed to be. It didn't sound nice in any case and Hassan admires that Mohammed a lot."

Colt almost had to laugh at her blatant lack of understanding of religion, but managed to keep a straight face. It never was a good idea to laugh at anything a teenager said if it wasn't intended as a joke. They were prone to feeling ridiculed.

"Ah well, that gives us a very good subject for our lesson actually. This is a situation you are quite likely to encounter at some point in your career and that can be very difficult to deal with. As Star Sheriffs it is our duty to save and protect the people of the New Frontier. That doesn't mean that they will always welcome you as heroes however. There are a lot of reasons why the very people you are trying to protect might meet you with anger, resentment and insults. And you will still have to stay polite and help them."

They stared at him. A new concept then? Well, then it was a lucky thing that Ahmeidi had brought it up.

"So class, what are possible reasons and what might be good ways to react to them? Cadet Ahmeidi has already encountered one example. Do you think he dealt with it as well as he could have or do you have any suggestions what else he might have tried?"

It was an important lesson and a difficult one because it wasn't a topic he'd come prepared for and Colt left the classroom feeling satisfied, but exhausted. And now there was another difficult class waiting for him at the shooting range.

 

Saber hurried straight to Molly's office that morning, but found that he had to wait until two students had left. There was no way that he could discuss this matter in front of witnesses who most likely would spread further rumours around the school.

As it happened the headmaster arrived before the students left.

"Hello Saber," General WhiteHawke greeted him happily. "Is there anything I can do for you."

General WhiteHawke had always seemed to have a particular liking for Saber, but Saber doubted that he'd be too happy to be bothered with something that Molly could handle just as well.

But on the other hand the two students were still keeping Molly busy and General WhiteHawke certainly had to know whether he had expelled Jason.

"Well, I wasn't actually going to bother you with this, but," he lowered his voice. "There's a rumour going around the school that you expelled Jason Evans because I sent him to you. I ... well, I really had no intention of getting him expelled. It was just that he was disrupting class for no other apparent reason than to provoke me and ... I could have dealt with it of course," he assured the headmaster hastily. "But I didn't see why his classmates should have to suffer the loss of class-time so I ... wanted him out of the room. I didn't ..."

General WhiteHawk's lips twitched. He was amused by this?

"First of all, Saber, I have not expelled Cadet Evans. He has merely received a final warning. His third final warning, in fact, so I fear that it is not likely to have made much of an impression on the boy. Sooner or later I will probably have to go through with the threat, but certainly not for disrupting your class."

Was that intended to reassure him now or was the General trying to hint that Saber's class was too badly taught or too irrelevant to be worth the effort? Saber wished he knew.

"Also, you should realise that I hardly ever expel a student merely at a single teacher's request."

"I did not request it, Sir," Saber assured him hastily. "It was never my intention. I merely wanted to scare him a little and ... well, most of all I wanted him out of the class for a little while so I could teach in peace. I'm sorry I wasted your time like that. I know that you have a lot more important things to do than babysit wayward students that your teachers don't want to deal with and I promise I won't do it again."

General WhiteHawke sighed. "Saber, you are well within your rights to send disruptive students to me and I believe it has made quite an impression on your students that you have made use of that right. Your other students that is. I don't think even I have made much of an impression on Evans, but that is my failure not yours. In fact, I believe there is only one of that boy's teachers left that has never sent him to me, yet."

"Colt," Saber guessed. "Colt's been picking on Evans since day one and somehow that resulted in Evans never provoking Colt the way he does the rest of us."

"I'm not sure Iâ€™d call it picking on the boy. He's defended him several times as well. I almost suspect that he actually likes him."

Now that Saber hadn't expected.

"You think so? Then why does he treat him so harshly?"

"Because he believes that the boy needs a strong hand, I suppose," the General said. "And he might be right at that. He definitely has made more progress with Evans than anybody else. Now don't you worry about it. You're still new to teaching. There's no shame in admitting that you can't handle a boy that your much more experienced colleagues are constantly complaining about."

"Colt isn't," Saber stated very softly. "And he isn't the one with command experience."

What if he'd ended up with Jason Evans on his team rather than in his classroom?

"Commanding a team on the front lines and teaching a class are two different things," the General reassured him. "Evans will probably straighten out very quickly once he ends up facing an actual war."

That didn't sound as reassuring as the General had intended it to be. Hadn't Colt said that he worried that Evans might turn into another Jesse Blue if he was expelled? Jesse certainly had spent a lot of time on the front line of the second Outrider War. Saber almost wished that he could compare notes with Nemesis.


	9. Octember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireball has a problem, but the attempt to fix it leads to yet another problem. It really isn't the racer's month. Or year.

Chapter 9: Octember

 

April was quite annoyed with her boys so she decided not to visit them on the next weekend. She had a lot to do anyway since that was when they'd decided to move her things into Stephen's house and besides it would be only fair for her to spend some time with Stephen while she was staying with him. She'd cook, she decided. That would repay him for the favour of letting her stay. And then they could discuss the latest developments in engineering over the meal or maybe speculate about as yet undeveloped technologies. No boring discussions of students or politics, or races and shooting competitions.

The conversation topics of her team-mates were just so uninspiring and whenever she did bring up something interesting they just sat and stared at her or went away or started reading the newspaper ...

Well, not Saber. Saber did try to keep the conversation going, but at such an awfully simple level that she didn't feel it was worth it. It was more like giving a simplified lecture, really. Saber simply didn't know enough about the subject to say anything inspiring. Stephen on the other hand ... Ah, Stephen and she made a good team always giving each other ideas and finding solutions for each other's problems.

"You are wasting your time and talent serving as a Star Sheriff," Stephen said suddenly interrupting her thoughts.

"I ... what?" April stuttered taken completely by surprise.

"I don't mean to say that it isn't a worthwhile profession," he continued hastily. "I quite admire your bravery and am well aware of all the honours and influence your father has earned in the army. Of course you look up to him and want to uphold the family tradition, but you can do so much more, April. You aren't just another soldier. You have real talent and skill in engineering."

"Just another soldier?" April repeated incredulously. "The Star Sheriffs aren't 'just' soldiers. We are the protectors of the people of the New Frontier. We uphold the laws and we protect our planets against invasions. Don't you realise that without us there might not be a New Frontier anymore? If the Outriders had won they'd have destroyed everything. You'd be dead or a homeless fugitive now, with no materials or money to work with! We needed every pair of hands we could get to prevent that."

"Of course, of course," he argued. "But the war is over and you are worth so much more to the New Frontier alive. Think of all the new technologies, the new weapons to help protect people, that we could develop together, if only you were free to devote all your time to it. The army is taking up so much of your time and energy doing things that any random cowboy or race car driver can do just as well and there is always a risk of being killed in the course of duty. Why don't you leave that work to people who don't have any more valuable skills to offer and become my assistant instead? Then you'd be free to invest all your time and energy in what you do best. Wouldn't that be a much better contribution to the future of the New Frontier than to lose your life to arrest some random coach-robber?"

"I am using my skills," April pointed out. "I built Ramrod, remember? And my life is not worth any more than that of Saber or Fireball. They have great talents, too, but they also have a duty to protect the New Frontier. They got elite training for it. As did I. Are you asking me to throw that away and never use it again just because the work is dangerous? That would be cowardly, Stephen. I may be a woman, but I am no more afraid to die than any other Star Sheriff!"

But the idea to devote the rest of her life entirely to engineering and never have to do boring patrol duty again was very tempting. If the Outriders really didn't return they had a lot more Star Sheriffs on staff right now than the New Frontier actually needed and Cavalry Command would probably even be glad to get some of them off its pay-roll.

April spent the rest of the day thinking about it, imagining the exciting new projects she and Stephen might work on together. What would it be like to settle down, live in a comfortable house of her own, maybe keep a pet ...

"I'll have to think about it, Stephen," she said that evening after dinner. "It's ... if I leave the Star Sheriffs now and there is another war, I'll probably never forgive myself, but ... I have to think it all over."

 

Hannah walked straight past Fireball without sparing him a glance as the first year class crossed the parking lot on the way to the gym.

She was walking alone, Fireball noticed, while all the others were walking in pairs or small groups, but she didn't look like she was about to cry. She looked ... somehow older than the little girl he'd first met when she'd arrived at the beginning of the school year. Strong and soldierly, but also cold and forbidding.

Oh well, most likely she was angry at being ignored. That was how it should be after all, show her that she couldn't have things her way by misbehaving and she'd stop.

He had more important things on his mind. Like the fact that his new student wasn't here yet. Unless ...

Fireball walked up to the student who'd been loitering on the other side of the parking lot for several minutes now.

"Cadet Ahmeidi?" he asked sharply.

"Yes, Sir!"

Aha, found him! Now to make sure he knew who the boss was.

"Oh, are you? And just why are you standing around here instead of waiting by the car like a good student?"

"I sorry! I not know where report, Sir! I first time this class."

"Can't you even speak in proper sentences? At least make a little effort if I'm actually kind enough to waste my time teaching you."

"Sorry Sir!" the boy replied not adding anything more.

"Follow me," Fireball barked.

The method was effective. Cadet Ahmeidi didn't give him any cheek or do anything he hadn't been told to all lesson. Unfortunately the boy also turned out to be unusually clumsy, though Fireball had some hope that that would improve with practise. At least the fact that he had to be shown where the gas pedal, break and even the gear shift were indicated that he'd found another student that had never driven a car before.

To make sure Ahmeidi didn't get cocky by his next lesson Fireball made a point of informing him that he was the least promising student he'd ever had and that he'd better try a lot harder next time and then Cadet Ahmeidi took off with his head and shoulders drooping dejectedly.

 

Oddly ever since he had failed to control Jason Evans' behaviour on his own Saber felt that his relationship with his students had improved. Not only Evans' class but all of them seemed to be paying more attention, though they still thought that his subjects were boring and readily admitted it. He in turn admitted that he didn't exactly find them exciting either, but that they were important and suddenly everybody seemed to accept that. It made for a much better working relationship and all involved were happier in his lessons ... which made him notice more easily when something was wrong.

"Why Cadet Ahmeidi?" he addressed the unusually miserable-looking student that walked into his class that afternoon. "Why the long face? Don't tell me you've forgotten your homework again?"

"No, no!" Hussain assured him quickly. "I have both. See. Here is forgotten homework and here is new homework. I write extra long."

"Well, then I forgive you for forgetting. So no reason to be unhappy anymore," Saber even smiled at the boy, though that took a bit of an effort. He was so used to controlling his features that not doing it was actually more difficult.

"It not about homework, Sir. It nothing to do with your class. I have other problem. Problem that can't fix with making extra long work."

Saber glanced at the class. He had two minutes left before the lesson should officially start and he always worried about the Ahmeidi brothers.

"Want to tell me about it?" he asked. "Maybe I can think of a way to fix it."

But Hussain shook his head. "There no way to fix. Is that I no talent for learn driving. Professor Fireball say I worst student ever. You no can give me talent. I no can make talent. I no can do extra work. I no can write extra talent. I drop class."

That was unfortunate but ...

"Well, it isn't a mandatory subject," Saber said. "If there had to be one you can't master I suppose it is lucky that it isn't something more important."

Hussain nodded sadly. "I just disappointed. And ashamed. Everybody drive."

"True," Saber admitted. "I can't think of any adult I know that doesn't drive, but you know, they didn't all learn it at the Academy. It you go to a private driving school, you can pay for more lessons if you feel you need them. That is probably what other people with your problem do."

Hussain nodded. "Maybe someday."

It didn't really seem to make him feel any better.

 

"Oh Fireball!" Molly called out to him as he passed her office. "Are you done for the day?"

Indeed he was. He'd only had three students scheduled for the day and had just found out that the last of them was sick. Somehow he seemed to be teaching less and less every week. There were always students who got sick or were too busy with homework for their other classes and decided to postpone learning to drive. And then there were some who simply didn't bother to turn up for their lessons.

Even without that he hadn't had a full schedule since Evans had wrecked the car. Maybe too many students had had to be transferred to the other driving teachers while Fireball had been out of action waiting for the return of his car.

He nodded. "Yes, I would have had one last lesson right now, but it's been cancelled. Anything I can do for you?"

"Not quite," Molly said with a strangely reassuring smile. "The headmaster said he'd like to see you sometime, if it is convenient. And since he just happens to be free as well right now it might be a good idea to get it over with right away."

General WhiteHawke wanted to see him? Whatever for? Fireball had only had a one on one meeting with him once before and that had been the one he'd asked for concerning the wrecked car.

He almost asked Molly what she knew about the matter, but she had that extra casual air about her that she always put on when she didn't want to draw the students' attention and there were three of them waiting to see her about something.

"Of course," he said just as casually therefore. "Should I go right through?"

Molly pressed a button on her desk and said something into a little microphone. Then she nodded at him.

"Yes, go right on in. He's expecting you."

A little nervously Fireball knocked on the headmaster's office door and walked in. General WhiteHawke greeted him politely, but seriously.

"I asked you here because one of your students, Cadet Ahmeidi, has decided to give up driving lessons," he said after they'd sat down.

"The Cadets seem to be doing that a lot," Fireball remarked wondering why the headmaster was telling him that in person.

In the past it had always been Molly who had informed him both of withdrawals and additions of students. He hadn't realised that General WhiteHawke was even informed of the subject choices of individual students.

"To be exact your students seem to be doing that a lot," the headmaster amended. "Your drop-out rate is significantly higher than that of every other teacher in this school."

"Well, most teachers teach mandatory subjects," Fireball pointed out. "While the driving lessons are just an additional offer the students can make use of or not as they wish. I think that it is quite reasonable of them to drop them if they feel they're having trouble keeping up with all their lessons."

"That is of course true, but if the reason for the high number of drop-outs this year were a too high workload in their other classes, then all driving and piloting instructors should be affected equally. They aren't showing any higher drop-out rates than usual, though. That rate, by the way is about one student per year and teacher in Driving and two students a year per piloting instructor. I have therefore asked Cadet Ahmeidi to tell me why he is dropping the subject. What do you think he said?"

Fireball shrugged.

"That he didn't like it?" he ventured a guess. "I only had him twice. Maybe he imagined it would be easier or more fun."

"He said you told him he could never master it," General WhiteHawke said sternly. "He claims he did his best, but it was no use. I find it very hard to believe that a healthy fifteen year old who is performing well in all his other physical classes should be so uncoordinated and clumsy that he cannot learn to drive a car."

"He what?" Fireball gasped. "That's ridiculous. Anyone can learn basic driving. It's not hard. Actual racing is a different matter, mind you, but it's not like Ahmeidi should even be thinking of that when he doesn't even have a driving license yet."

"So how is it possible that after only two lessons Cadet Ahmeidi is convinced he'll never manage to get his license and that it isn't even worth trying?" the headmaster asked.

"I'll talk with him," Fireball promised. "He ... English doesn't appear to be his first language. Maybe it's some sort of misunderstanding."

"Don't bother," the headmaster ordered. "Captain Rider has already convinced him to postpone rather than give up learning to drive entirely. Ahmeidi said he'll complete the Academy first, then take a year or two to get used to his duties and then try to get his license privately. Considering his language problems that might indeed be the better choice for him, but I cannot allow you to discourage our students any further. I know that this is your first teaching job and that it takes a while to figure out the best ways to deal with students and their individual needs, but ... well, there are certain levels of clumsiness that we cannot tolerate in the interest of Cavalry Command and the numbers and quality of Star sheriffs we produce. I hate to have to say this, but I'm afraid that if you cannot reduce your drop-out rate quickly, I think we will have to agree that teaching simply isn't for you."

 

Colt was happily grading away at the latest bunch of Psychology tests. It was really satisfying to see how well many of his students were progressing. Even Bran Jonasson's answers showed a serious effort, though the more interpretative questions still demonstrated a lack of real understanding of what he had learned. He wasn't the only one that appeared to find those hard, though and Colt strongly suspected that it was due to his students' youth. They had never encountered many of the things he was teaching them about and couldn't properly imagine the situations those questions described.

Jonasson had made an effort and deserved some recognition.

'Still not perfect, but a marked improvement,' Colt scribbled under the C. 'I can see that you studied hard for this. Keep it up and you'll get there eventually.'

He should also talk with the boy, he thought, make it clear that he was pleased.

A sudden banging startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up. Ah, Fireball was home and had slammed the door.

"Evening," Colt greeted the racer cheerfully. "Something wrong?"

"No nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Now don't you start acting like Saber," Colt advised him. "Or well, not in this respect at least. That's the thing we're trying to train him out of, remember? I can see that you're pissed off, so tell me what's wrong. It'll make you feel better."

"Yeah right, sure it will, Mr. perfect teacher," Fireball snapped. "Is Saber home yet?"

"Yes, but he's tired. Don't go bothering him with it now. At least not until you've tried me."

Fireball glanced longingly at Saber's closed door, but then sat down after all.

"It can wait," he declared.

"Annoying student?" Colt guessed. "They didn't damage your car again, did they?"

"No, nothing of the sort," Fireball said with a sigh. "Actually he was more the opposite type. You know, the one that knows he can't drive and is nervous that he'll break something. Those are ... awfully annoying because they take so long to grow confident in what they've learned, but at least they stop when you tell them to and listen to what you tell them. ... Actually, now that I think about it, he'd probably have been a pleasant enough student to have. He quit, though."

"He quit?" Colt asked. "Now why would he do that?"

Fireball shrugged.

"I suppose that he found that it wasn't as much fun as he'd thought it would be. Or maybe somebody told him to sign up for it because it was so great and then it wasn't. Why else would one quit an elective after the second lesson?"

"Well, that's his choice then," Colt said lightly while trying to work out what was actually going on.

Fireball had only figured out that he'd liked the student right now so ...

"But why are you so angry about it?"

"Oh, I just, well, General WhiteHawk seems to think it's my fault, that I did something to drive him off."

"Well, you aren't exactly one of the most popular teachers going by what I've overheard the students saying," Colt suggested gently. "Maybe he really did get scared off by something someone told him about you."

"So they're talking about me behind my back!"

"Students always talk about their teachers. Especially teenage students," Colt assured him. "It's an integral part of puberty to be as annoying to one's elders as one possibly can be. Don't take it to heart."

But the exclamation had done exactly what Colt had been trying to avoid. Saber came out of his room to see what was going on.

"Who's talking behind your back, Fireball?" Saber asked concernedly.

Surely Fireball couldn't have found out about the things he'd told the psychologist about him? The psychologist had to observe strict rules of professional secrecy.

But then Saber had also mentioned some things to Ian Doe that he regretted now. He had to watch his words more closely!

"The students, those little bastards!" Fireball snapped.

"Really, it's just the usual silly chattering and one-upmanship teenagers like to engage in," Colt said almost pleadingly. "You shouldn't worry about it. They talk about all of us."

That was quite a shock, though Saber thought he really should have known it. He had attended the Academy and even participated in some of the milder gossip himself. Why hadn't he remembered that when he'd spoken with Ian? What if the boy had repeated something ... not even intending to engage in gossip, but trying to help or thinking he wasn't giving anything important away?

"What are they saying Fireball?" he asked hoping he merely sounded concerned about his friend being upset.

"Apparently that I suck as a teacher and should be fired," Fireball fumed.

Saber's lips twitched very much against his will, but at least he managed to hide his relief. He definitely had never said anything like that to anyone.

"Actually," Colt said. "They're saying that Fireball is a nasty old git and enjoys nothing more than to belittle his students and spoil their fun. Let me particularly point out the word old just so you can see how seriously I'm taking this. I bet they're saying exactly the same thing about me, by the way. They're just more careful not to say it where I might hear them."

Saber almost smiled, but managed to keep control of his features.

"Well, what I have heard them say about you, and that was almost always to my face, mind you, is that you're a terrible spoil-sport and no fun, but that one can go to you with one's problems and you always listen. Also you are very patient with incompetent students that do not even deserve it."

Colt snorted. "Who said the last bit, Liu Chang?"

Got it in one, but ...

"I'm sorry, I can't betray my students' confidence. Now, tell me what you've heard about me?"

"That you are a dead bore mostly," Colt reported.

That wasn't surprising considering what he was teaching.

"You also have no sense of humour and are a pushover. That was before they decided you'd expelled Jason Evans, though. And oh yes, you play favourites. Apparently you're particularly fond of Ian Doe and give him better grades and easier questions than everybody else."

"I what?" Saber gasped. "I'd never!"

"Yes, well, apparently half the school favours Ian Doe going by his grades. I must say I quite like the boy myself. He's more mature than the others and very kind and helpful. Most of his classmates seem to like him as well and he appears to like you. He ... Well, he's the one that convinced Jonassen that it might be a good idea to make an effort to learn and that's really beginning to show results. Now, if he could only do the same with Jason Evans ..."

"I fear Evans is a lost cause,Colt," Saber said. "I do hope that you're wrong about him turning into another Jesse Blue, but I'm not sure we're doing anyone a favour by making him a Star Sheriff either."

"He has to grow up eventually," Colt returned stubbornly. "But anyway, you see what nonsense the students say about everybody. Don't let it upset you, Fireball."

"Well, General WhiteHawk isn't threatening to fire either of you over it, is he?" Fireball yelled.

"Fire you?" Saber gasped quite undignifiedly, but he couldn't help it. This sounded so very unlike the kindly old man. "He didn't actually say that!"

"Yes, he did. He thinks I'm driving away students and if I don't stop it he has to get rid of me. But how do I stop false rumours?"

"He can't," Saber said completely shocked by the idea of losing Fireball like that. It was completely unheard of that Cavalry Command would fire a war hero because he couldn't teach. Besides Fireball was still young enough to return to the field where he'd already preformed excellently in the past. In fact ... "He really can't, Fireball. He doesn't have the authority. He can request that you be reassigned, but even that needs the agreement of Commander Eagle. You don't really think April's father would fire you, do you?"

"Well, he didn't actually say fire," Fireball admitted a little sheepishly. "I just thought that's what he meant. I suppose it must have been request reassignment then, but I don't like that either."

"Why?" Colt asked. "We all know you hate teaching and can't wait to return to the field. If it comes to that, why don't you tell the general that you'd really like to go back to patrolling and to please tell Commander Eagle that. He might even make it look like it is all your idea to leave the Academy in the first place so it won't look bad on your record."

It sounded like an excellent idea, but it still made Saber feel sick to think of Fireball leaving.

"Do you two want to get rid of me?" Fireball asked eyes wide with outrage.

"No!" Saber shouted surprising even himself by his vehemence. "I'll talk with General WhiteHawk and clear this up. Nobody's leaving."

"No, Saber," Colt said. "It's not your problem and there's a better way to handle this. If you don't want to go to WhiteHawk, Fireball, then tell April. She can probably fix it all with Commander Eagle."

"That's not a bad idea," Saber admitted. "But I'll still ask the headmaster what's really going on. It's probably all completely harmless."

Or maybe not. He knew that Fireball hated teaching and that his students didn't like him either. Perhaps General WhiteHawk had learned those things as well and thought he'd be doing Fireball a favour by offering him a chance to leave, but Saber didn't want his team to be broken up. If only Fireball could make it through two more months of teaching the school year would be over and they could go back to Ramrod together, but if Fireball was already patrolling with a different team by then chances were that he wouldn't be available and they'd be given a stranger for their pilot instead. They might never work together again!

And what if General WhiteHawk had made the offer because he already knew that they wouldn't be returning to Ramrod in two months? Had there been a decision to ground Saber for another year? Or permanently?

If the psychologist had made an unfavourable report to Commander Eagle, though, why had Eagle told WhiteHawk and left Saber in the dark? Why hadn't the psychologist mentioned anything to him at all?

 

They'd set up a small model of the engine room on the kitchen table to try out various ways to change the wiring and boost the drive.

"If only we could make a connection here without disrupting the ..."

The ringing of the phone interrupted April mid-sentence.

"Oh bother!" she moaned. "Not now!"

She was about to announce that she'd just let it ring even though it disrupted her concentration, but then Doctor Toleda said: "Go on, just answer it. It's probably something minor that you can deal with in a moment and if you ignore them, they'll only keep calling."

He was right of course and so she got up with a sigh and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"April, it's me, Fireball. Listen, I need your help."

"Oh Fireball, can't it wait? Doctor Toleda and I are working on this really brilliant idea to boost Ramrod's drive which might give us a little more room in the engine room and then ..."

"All right, I'll call back tonight then. Or sometime. Bye."

"Fireball? Wait a moment! What ..."

But he had already hung up.

"Oh."

"What was it?" Doctor Toleda asked when she returned to the kitchen. "You look troubled."

"Oh, just Fireball. He said there was some kind of problem he needs me to help with and he'll call back tonight. He just forgot to say what sort of problem."

"Well, if it can wait until tonight, it can't be that serious," Doctor Toleda reassured her. "Look I think Iâ€™ve worked it out."

 

Fireball hung up the phone with a sigh. He should have known better than to expect help from April at the moment. She had clearly forgotten all about her love for him over her new romance with Doctor Toleda's project. Or was she actually in love with Doctor Toleda himself? How old was that man? Fireball had never met him.

What if he was young and attractive? His title already proved that he was smart and accomplished. Sure, Fireball had his racing fame and place on the Ramrod team, but was that equal to an academic title? Most likely his being a war hero meant little to nothing to April who was after all one herself. She'd grown up around war heroes and what was a racing career compared to an academic one?

There had to be some way he could find out what the man looked like and whether he was married. April wouldn't steal away another woman's husband, would she?

He'd love to ask Saber what he knew about the man. Or dared he ask Commander Eagle? He could use his problem with General WhiteHawk as an excuse to see him and ask him whether April had found another man. Or maybe it would be wiser to use his worry over April's sudden withdrawal as an excuse to see him and mention his problem with General WhiteHawk? Which would be the wiser move and was either appropriate?

He'd have to ask Saber, but then he wasn't supposed to bother Saber with his problems and Saber thought it was all just a misunderstanding.

He almost wished he had a psychologist, too. Psychologists were supposed to be really good at giving life advice, weren't they?

Maybe he could ask Saber to let him come along to his next appointment and borrow his psychologist for a few minutes? Saber didn't like those appointments anyway. But it would still involve Saber.

Fireball trotted back into the kitchen, sat down at the small table and regarded their resident Psychology teacher. Colt was still grading, but he'd never said not to bother him and he was the closest thing to a psychologist around, a very pathetic closest thing, but maybe he still knew how to get information on Doctor Toleda.

"Colt?"

Fireball's voice sounded strangely weak and pleading, as if he were feeling even worse than before. That shouldn't be. Surely Saber's revelation that General WhiteHawk couldn't fire him at all must have reassured him? He'd seemed reassured at the time, so what could have changed in just a few minutes?

"Yes?" he said pushing his work aside as much as he could on the too small table. "You aren't really that worried about being reassigned, are you? It'd just be a temporary separation if it goes through at all. Commander Eagle wouldn't separate you from April any longer than he has to."

"So you think he approves of our relationship?" Fireball asked in a hopeful tone.

"Why shouldn't he? The only thing speaking against it that I can think of is your dangerous profession and being a soldier is an Eagle family tradition, so I can't imagine that he ever hoped for anything else for April."

"You don't think he might prefer an engineer? Or a teacher with a bright future in a well paid secure job?"

"Why would he even consider it? April has always had her heart set on a soldier, hasn't she? First it was Saber and now you. And he can't have any hopes that she'll marry Saber, because he's never returned her feelings and everybody knows it. Besides Eagle likes you."

"Does he really?"

"Of course he does. A lot better than me in any case. Why are you so nervous about it? April hasn't decided to ask his permission to marry you while she's discussing your possible reassignment, has she?"

Surely even April wasn't that clumsy!

"No, she's so engrossed in Dr. Toleda that she never gave me a chance to tell her about that at all. I'm not going to get any help from her in this, Colt."

"Oh well, then we'll do without her. It shouldn't be a problem. I'm pretty sure General WhiteHawke will be happy to pass on your wishes to Commander Eagle, if you just tell him what's troubling you about being reassigned. And if that doesn't work out you can still go to Eagle yourself. I tell you he doesn't want to separate you and April any more than you want it. He'll find a solution for you."

"What if April doesn't want me anymore?" Fireball asked almost pleadingly. "What if she's in love with this Dr. Toleda? Do you know anything about him?"

"He's a doctor of engineering and working under April at the moment," Colt supplied all he knew. "He seems to be quite brilliant and I think that April admires that. But that's no reason to assume that she's in love with some musty old Doctor."

"But is he old?" Fireball asked urgently. "Have you ever seen him? What if he's young and attractive?"

Colt stopped to think about this. It was a logical reaction and April did have a terrible tendency to flirt with people.

"You know what," he told Fireball. "I think we ought to find out. Those two work on Sundays, don't they?"

"Yes, so what do we do about that?"

"Why we use the next Sunday that we both haven't got any other plans to pay a little visit to Ramrod and see how the work's coming along. Unannounced because it's a completely spontaneous decision, mind you. We just suddenly realise how much we miss good old Ramrod and April. Then we might just happen to see Doctor Toleda as well."

 

"It's just cowardice, that's all," Colt heard Cadet Quinto announce as his next class filed onto the shooting range. "And totally unworthy of him. He'd make an excellent Star Sheriff if only he'd accept his duty. But I'll get that stubborn idiot to see reason eventually."

Maybe he ought not to interfere, Colt thought. This was obviously a conversation between students, but on the other hand as their Psychology teacher he felt responsible for the emotional crises of his pupils and Quinto seemed very agitated by something that didn't quite sound logical. Not to mention that the words he'd overheard indicated that another student was going through a crisis in his career choice and General WhiteHawke probably expected his teachers to make sure that the Academy produced as many Star Sheriffs as possible.

On the other hand ... well, Colt decided to postpone his decision what advice he ought to give the student until he knew what exactly the reasons for his sudden doubts were. If it was just an early case of pre-exam nerves he'd reassure the boy of course, but if there really was a reason to assume that he'd be happier in another career ...

"Is there a problem, Cadet?" he asked instead of handing out a blaster to Quinto.

"Problem, Sir? No, why would there be a problem?"

"Well, you seem quite upset," Colt hinted. "And the way you were gesticulating just now, I wonder whether you might not want to get something off your chest before you start handling a blaster today."

Quinto blushed.

It's nothing to be ashamed of," Colt assured him. "We all get upset sometimes, but one needs to focus and keep a steady hand when shooting. So, tell me what's up?"

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just Tuesday spouting his usual nonsense about wanting to be a priest again. After he's spent four years at the Academy. He's just throwing away his chance to be a Star Sheriff!"

Oh! Colt certainly hadn't expected that.

"I don't know, Cadet. Mr. Omawombe has told me quite a lot about this plan, you see, and it seems to me that he feels a very strong religious calling. I don't think he'd be at all happy as a Star Sheriff."

"His father's a Star Sheriff!" Quinto snapped. "It's his duty to him as well as to the Academy."

Alright, this was ... seriously weird.

"Now, I believe the only duty Mr. Omawombe has towards his parents is to honour them as the bible tells him to. He certainly doesn't have any duty to choose a particular profession just because his father did."

"But he is shaming them by choosing one thatâ€™s beneath his social class!" Quinto insisted.

"Why Cadet Quinto, this is the first I've heard of priest being a dishonourable profession," Colt had to fight to keep a straight face. "Mr. Omawombe has told me that he feels that he has a duty to God and wants to follow that and as far as I know his parents do not object to it in any way and neither does the Academy. You may have noticed that we are offering a poly-technical class for students that do not wish to become Star Sheriffs. We wouldn't do that if we expected everybody here to join the army."

"But he is throwing away the chance to be a Star Sheriff!" Quinto repeated.

"He does not want it," Colt pointed out again "He is making use of his chance to be something else. And by declining the place he was offered in a Star Sheriff class he passed his chance to be a Star Sheriff on to another student that actually wants it, but didn't have the privilege of attending the academy's high school. Don't you agree that that student will probably make a much better Star Sheriff than Mr. Omawombe would, if he were forced to become one against his own wishes? The place has not gone to waste, Cadet Quinto. All our Star Sheriff classes have the maximum number of students and in fact, I believe, several good candidates had to be turned away, because the Academy doesn't have any more room for them. To consider any of the high school or poly-technical students obliged to become Star Sheriffs under those circumstances seems absurd."

"But he ought to want ..."

"Tell me, Cadet Quinto, why did you choose to be a Star Sheriff?" Colt asked before the boy could repeat his useless statement once again.

"I ... why ... because it's the best and I had the chance and ... well, it's being a Star Sheriff, right?" Quinto stuttered.

"You know, that is not the most coherent argument I have ever heard. Have you ever really sat down and thought it over?"

"Well, no Sir. There wasn't any reason to do so. I always knew I wanted to be a Star Sheriff."

Colt nodded.

"You know," he said. "I think that Mr. Omawombe did sit down and think about it for a very long time before he decided to decline and become a priest. He knows exactly why he wants to be a priest and has told me so very convincingly. You haven't really convinced me why you ought to be a Star Sheriff."

"What about you,Sir?" an unexpected voice intruded into their conversation. "Would you be okay with telling us why you chose to become a Star Sheriff?"

Colt glanced at the speaker in surprise and recognised Ian Doe who was looking at him very seriously. Well, he had no reason to hide anything there.

"We were in the middle of the last Outrider war at the time. I'd seen all the death and destruction that Outrider attacks brought. My own parents, peaceful farmers, had died in such an attack. My friends and neighbours had lost loved ones and property. People were scared and looking to the Star Sheriffs for help. I knew I was a good shot of course, but I'd wanted to take over my parents' farm, so I never even thought about applying to the Academy. With the farm gone, though, I decided that I ought to use my skill to help drive the Outriders away and save some people. So I started to hunt down Outrider agents on my own at first. Then one day I happened to run into Captain Rider on one of those missions. It turned into a very dire situation when the city was attacked by a Renegade and I was asked to help out as a temporary Star Sheriff for the moment." Colt smiled. "And afterwards I was asked to stay on a little longer because Cavalry Command needed every man it could get to fight the Outriders. Fighting Outriders and protecting the people was exactly what I wanted to do and so I agreed ... and at some point a little longer turned into permanently, I suppose. Nobody actually ever asked me about that, but I never regretted staying."

"But the war is over now, and you ended up having to teach instead," Cadet Quinto asked. "Don't you regret that? They say Mr. Fireball does."

Ah, so they'd figured that out, had they?

"Well, I haven't asked him, but I suppose Fireball might be a little bored with teaching. He likes speed and action and of course he has to take it slow when teaching beginners to drive. As for me, though, I like teaching more than I ever expected I might. I just told you I wanted to protect people, but that was because right then they needed protecting more than anything else. What I really like to do is to help others, to make a difference, and here I am helping to prepare an entire new generation of Star Sheriffs for their duties. Someday soon you will go out there and protect people and between you, even this single class by itself will help more people than I alone ever could. And by having taught you, I will have a small part in that. So yes, I'm quite happy with what I'm doing. What about you then?" Colt asked the very thoughtful looking Cadet Doe. Why did you choose to become a Star Sheriff?"

"I guess for much the same reasons as you did. I'm an orphan, so I have no family to miss me and well ... there are reasons why I'm not likely to ever choose to have a wife and children either. Becoming a Star Sheriff seemed like a good way to do something useful with my life."

Colt nodded and turned to the next student.

"How about you Jonassen?"

"Well, because it's an exciting life? I don't want a boring desk job. I want to see some action, do great deeds."

That made Colt smile.

"I think that's probably roughly what Fireball would say, as well. Cadet Hartford?"

Max Hartford shrugged.

"I always thought I'd be a miner like my Pa, but then the mines all closed down and there were so few jobs left on our planet that I realised I had to go somewhere else and do something else. The Star Sheriff Academy sounded like a good idea because it offered a guaranteed job along with the training."

"Well, Cadet Quinto," Colt summed up. "There seem to be a lot of possible reasons to become a Star Sheriff, and none of them seem to have anything to do with duty to one's parents. And there are at least as many valid reasons not to become a Star Sheriff. Mr. Omawombe has chosen to become a priest, so let him be a priest."

"I happy he become whatever he like," Cadet Ahmeidi commented unexpectedly. "If he stop telling us what we eat and believe. He tell me I must be Christian, I tell him he must be Star Sheriff. Is just as true."

Colt couldn't help laughing at that.

"I suppose you have every right to use it to illustrate that," he agreed.


	10. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saber is seriously worried about his future with the team, while Fireball is still worrying about his future with April.

Chapter 10: November

 

"Have you been reporting anything to Commander Eagle or General WhiteHawk?" Saber asked his psychologist maybe a touch too vehemently.

The doctor looked at him questioningly. He did that a lot.

"Something that might have repercussions for Fireball, I mean. There's been some trouble between him and the General that has seriously upset him. I need to know what's going on."

"Then I suggest you ask Fireball and WhiteHawk," the psychologist said mildly. "I barely know the one and have never even met the other."

"It doesn't have to be something you said to General WhiteHawk himself, or directly about Fireball. The headmaster and Commander Eagle are close friends and ... well, one is our headmaster and the other April's father. It wouldn't be surprising if they have noticed that Fireball isn't happy teaching, either by observation or because April mentioned it. Apparently General WhiteHawk said something that Fireball understood to be a threat to fire him."

"Then why do you think I had anything to do with it?" the psychologist asked. "You just said he might easily have discovered it by himself."

Saber suppressed a wince. He did not want to appear paranoid or defensive. The psychologist wasn't somebody he could fight, at least not without bringing even worse things than the current situation down upon himself and his team.

"I'm wondering why he'd take action now. There are only two months left of the school year and at that time our assignment to the academy is supposed to end anyway, as far as I know. We've been assuming that we're to be put back on patrol duty then. Replacing a teacher that close to the end of the school year would upset the students and the staff more than it seems to be worth. The students are preparing for their exams and a new teacher would have to start by finding his way around, determining what they have already learned and what they need to work on. It doesn't make sense not to just wait out the end of Fireball's engagement. So I must assume that General WhiteHawk expects it to be extended for at least another year. That wouldn't be his decision, but Commander Eagle's, but as they are old friends ... well, the Commander might have told him privately even though there are no official orders, yet. However it's not a likely decision for Commander Eagle to make, to tie down one of his best combat units at the Academy where he can't draw it off on short notice if another war should break out. He would normally want us patrolling or on garrison duty so we're ready at hand. The Academy should preferably have personnel that is not fit for active duty anymore to prevent any disruptions of its routine in case of war. That's why I've been wondering whether you might have reported that you want us kept here another year. Then leaving us where we are would be the easiest way to achieve that, and General WhiteHawk or Commander Eagle, knowing that Fireball wouldn't be happy with that, might get the idea to suggest that he could apply for something else."

The psychologist nodded.

"Commander Eagle has not yet asked me for any statement concerning what to do with you after the end of the current treatment period and I have not mentioned it to him either. I thought that decision was to be made at the end of said period."

"But then why would General WhiteHawk offer something like that to Fireball?" Saber asked feeling even more confused.

"Have you asked him yet?" the psychologist suggested mildly. "Perhaps he has a perfectly obvious reason that neither you or I are aware of."

 

Something was wrong with Fireball, April felt. He hadn't called at all since that short conversation when he'd told her he needed her help, and that even though he'd said he'd call again that evening. Some time had passed since then and April wouldn't even have noticed if Doctor Toleda hadn't asked her casually whether she'd been able to fix her friend's problem.

April frowned. What to do? She'd already promised to go out for dinner with Doctor Toldea on Sunday, so she couldn't use that as an excuse to visit the boys and check up on Fireball, like she usually did.

Well, like she had planned to usually do. There had been so much else to do lately that almost two months had slipped away since she'd seen the boys. She had to do something, but she couldn't go back on her promise to Doctor Toleda.

So she picked up the phone and called the flat. It rang, and rang, and rang ...

Oh, of course, it was a school-day morning. All three boys had to be working. She put down the receiver again and went back to work. She'd call tonight.

But then there was an unexpected problem with the hydraulics system and it took until almost midnight to fix it. By then April was completely exhausted and simply fell into bed having long forgotten all about her plan to call Fireball.

 

Saber went to see General WhiteHawk the first opportunity he got.

"Please don't tell me you're here to ask me to expel Evans," the headmaster said in what didn't sound entirely like a joke.

"My visit has nothing to do with Evans," he assured WhiteHawk "It's about Fireball."

To Saber's surprise General WhiteHawk sighed.

"That's almost as bad," he said. "There seems to be nothing but trouble with both of them."

"I was aware that Fireball was finding it harder to get used to teaching than the rest of us," Saber allowed. "But I haven't heard of any serious trouble. Nothing at a level with the things Jason Evans does in any case. You aren't blaming Fireball for Evans wrecking his car, are you?"

"No," WhiteHawk said. "Of course not. I am blaming him for having by far the highest drop-out rate among his students. He is discouraging them and driving them away from his subject."

"Which is an optional additional offer," Saber pointed out. "It's not like those cadets are leaving the Academy. Though perhaps they should. Don't you think a Star Sheriff should be made of sterner stuff than to be so easily discouraged?"

"It's not like we don't have other teachers who are known to be very demanding. Your friend Colt is very strict with his students as well, but I haven't heard of a single one of them wanting to drop his classes or being convinced that he'll never master shooting. We can't afford to teach our students that they are failures. That will discourage them and make them more inclined to give up in other difficult situations as well. Star Sheriffs need to be confident that they can win."

"Well, maybe students who can't maintain that attitude in the face of Fireball's teaching are just not good enough," Saber suggested. "I have to admit that I too am not entirely pleased with this year's crop. They seem a lot less determined than I remember past groups."

"They are no different than any other year," General WhiteHawk countered. "Perhaps the war years were a bit more grimly determined in the face of a harsh reality, and those are the ones you've known most closely - and always a lot less closely than this one. What you're noticing is a more detailed impression, not an actual change."

"Perhaps so," Saber allowed since he saw no use in arguing with the old man who had seen so many more generations of students than he had. "But why don't you just tell Fireball to tone it down instead of threatening to fire him this close to the end of the year? He's still learning himself and I've always found him eager to adapt to new ways. I'm sure he can learn to teach. It's just taking him longer than others, quite possibly because he hasn't had sufficient guidance."

"Maybe he could, but I doubt it," General WhiteHawk said. "Teaching, more than any other profession, is a calling. You either have it, or you don't. And while Colt quite obviously has it, you and Fireball don't."

So WhiteHawk was displeased with him as well. That hurt a lot more than Saber liked. The General had always been so pleased with him in the past.

Saber pushed the feeling away. He couldn't afford to let the headmaster see that he was hurt or he would think that he was merely being defensive and ignore his points. He could not afford to be hurt, so he was not. There was no logical reason why he should want General WhiteHawk to be pleased with him. The world wouldn't end if he wasn't. Nobody would be harmed. It should mean nothing to him.

"But you can't fire me," he stated calmly. "Commander Eagle won't let you while he has no other use for me, but he'll let you fire Fireball, because he can put him back on active duty any time he likes."

"I have no cause to fire you," the headmaster returned. "You are doing no worse a job than most of the reconvalescents we get here. That has to do for a temporary teacher. I recommend that you don't ever try to make teaching a permanent career and I mean to tell Commander Eagle so as well, but you will do in a pinch. Fireball is a much more extreme case."

Saber waved that off.

"I did not come here to discuss future career plans anyway. It would be too soon for that. You are threatening to fire Fireball this close to the end of the year even though as far as we know our assignment to the school is to end with said school year anyway. I don't see the logic of it and Fireball is outright distressed by it, because he's taking it as a hint that Colt and I are to remain at the Academy for another year and he will be assigned to a different team. He is afraid that it is to be a permanent separation ... from his girlfriend as well as his friends," Saber added hastily. He did not want to make the case too personal as far as he himself was concerned.

"I have heard nothing about next year's temporary teachers, and I do not expect to until all the stress over the exams and graduation is over. Commander Eagle may or may not have thought about it already. I wouldn't know. He is well aware that I am too busy with the winding up of this school year to discuss it now. I'll admit that I wouldn't mind keeping Colt for another year, though. You and Fireball, however, belong on the front line."

This time it was Saber that sighed.

"I do hope that Commander Eagle will see it that way. For Fireball's sake. It's what he's been longing for all year, but he just won't go without the rest of the team."

Not that Saber really wanted Fireball to go without him, but that was selfish, and if General WhiteHawk asked he'd say that the reason was Fireball's relationship with April, nothing to do with him. The headmaster didn't enquire into it at all, though.

 

"Why don't you stay here?" Stephen suggested. "It's much more comfortable than those tiny cabins on Ramrod and you'll be stuck there again soon enough. A woman like you shouldn't have to live in such cramped circumstances all the time."

April sighed. How much she longed to accept!

"I'd love to, Stephen," she said. "Your house is beautiful and it reminds me of home so much. But it would upset the boys."

"The boys?" Stephen echoed incredulously.

"My team-mates," April explained. "They have this horrid little flat in town and they expected me to move there with them. I couldn't stand the thought of it so I told them that I wanted to stay on-board to be better able to supervise the work."

"Do they have to find out, though?" Stephen prompted.

"Why they might call, or even drop by unexpectedly. They've done it before. It wasn't a problem while the cabins were uninhabitable, but now ... They'll feel insulted if I tell them I prefer your house to their flat."

"So tell them that it's closer," Stephen said with a smile that almost melted her resolve.

"But it isn't," she insisted nevertheless. "I'll come over for dinner everyday, alright?"

"And maybe spend the weekend," he coaxed.

"Maybe," she said convinced that she'd do no such thing.

 

"What's the matter with you today anyway?" Liu Chang demanded parking the car perfectly even though Fireball had not told her to do any such thing. "You haven't told me what I'm doing wrong a single time today, yet."

"Well, you haven't been doing anything disastrously wrong today," Fireball told her. "In fact, I think you're getting the hang of this."

Liu regarded him thoughtfully.

"I can't have gone from disastrous to perfect overnight," she informed him."Come on. You're supposed to tell me how awfully badly I've parked this car now."

"But it's fine," Fireball assured her. "Just a touch to the right of dead on in the centre, well within the lines. We could both get out without a problem if there were cars next to it. I'd have made sure to be exactly in the centre myself, but there's absolutely no need for you to be able to do that to get your license. If you do it like this in your exam they'll give you full marks for it."

"Well, I can't have done everything well enough for full marks today," Liu challenged. "So why aren't you barking at me like you always do?"

Fireball sighed and decided to be honest.

"I've been told I discourage my students too much and should try to ... you know, bark only when you do something really disastrously wrong. And you are showing much improvement so I haven't seen anything bark-worthy by those rules today."

Liu rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Look, I can take a little barking. I'm no shrinking violet. But if you insist on not barking, how about telling me nicely to pay more attention to ... whatever you think I should try to improve? What would I have gotten the worst marks on if today had been the exam?"

"I ... well, I didn't notice anything you wouldn't have passed in any case. My mind might not have been entirely on driving exams at all times today."

Liu gave him a look.

"I've been thinking about my girlfriend, okay? She ... has been a bit distant lately and I'm trying to figure out what I should do about it."

"Sheesh, just buy her a big bunch of flowers and take her to a movie tonight. Act extra lovey-dovey, you know. She'll respond in kind."

"And what if she decides to work late again and I don't see her at all? She never seems to have any time for me these days."

"Okay, that is a problem. Can't she take a holiday? Sounds like she needs one after working that much."

"She doesn't want to. She loves her work."

"More than you? Then throw her over and find someone else. She's not worth it. There are other fish in the sea and I bet all you need to do is let on that you're available."

"Cadet Chang!"

"Hey, I'm not offering myself, you know. I've got a boy-toy and know better than to shag my teacher. Besides, you probably want a girl your age, with experience and an income ... and maybe wanting to settle down? But you've got a really cool car and no curfew. What's to stop you from driving into the city after your last class, finding some saloon and buying some lonely girls a drink or two? You can tell them all about your racing trophies and what you did in the war and I bet one of them will bite soon enough."

"Cadet Chang! I'm not looking for advice on how to become a 'boy-toy'. I'm in love with April. I'm considering asking her to marry me ... and suddenly I'm no longer sure she's interested. I don't want to shag anybody else. I just want April back."

"Well, then go ahead and ask her already. She says yes, she's interested. She says no, it's time to go find somebody else."

"It's not that easy!"

"Course it is. You've just got to be willing to take the risk that she might say no and be ready to accept it as your answer."

 

"No Jason, don't! Do you really want to get kicked out?"

Colt who'd been busy checking a malfunctioning gun whirled around at that and found that Jason Evans was pointing his blaster right at him. He reacted by reflex. He ducked under the gun and charged at the boy.

At this close distance Jason had no time to prepare and was bowled right over at the impact his blaster going off harmlessly as Colt had automatically knocked his arm upwards on the way.

Only the students' gasps and shrieks brought him back to himself before he actually started pummelling the boy with his fists. He decided to stick to pinning Jason to the ground, though.

"Drop the blaster," he ordered. "Now."

Jason did. "I wasn't going to shoot, Sir. Honestly! Only when you hit my arm it ... it went off. I was just fooling around."

"And how often have I told you not to fool around with guns?" Colt demanded. "What if one of your classmates had accidentally jostled you and it had gone off while you were still pointing it at us?"

"It wouldn't ..."

"Yeah right, just like it didn't right now. Cadet Doe, please pick up Cadet Evans' blaster."

Colt didn't let go of the boy until Ian had done so. Then he got up very calmly and took the blaster himself. "That Cadets, was a little extracurricular demonstration for your hand-to-hand combat class," he declared. "But you can also take it as a reminder that even when facing an unarmed man holding a gun does not make you invincible. Cadet Thomson, you can use this blaster for the rest of the lesson. I'll get the other one repaired later. Cadet Evans, follow me."

"I really didn't mean it, Sir," Evans assured him again. "I thought ..."

"You weren't thinking at all," Colt told him loud enough for the rest of the class to hear. "You decided it was cool to demonstratively ignore the most basic safety rule I have taught you. But I hope that you realise now that you could well get expelled for endangering your fellow students' lives. This is no longer an innocent mistake, Evans, and I will make sure that it doesn't happen again."

"Oh my," Colt heard somebody whisper. "He's really going to get expelled this time!"

He ignored the frightened students and calmly led Jason Evans to the armoury.

"Wait here," he ordered just outside the door. "I won't trust you a single step closer until you have proven that you have learned to handle a weapon responsibly."

He himself only unlocked the door for a moment and grabbed the gun hanging closest to it without a second thought.

"And here is the weapon you will be using for practise until then," he announced holding the bright pink water gun out to Jason. "It matches your level of maturity."

Evans' face was priceless in it's mixture of relief and outrage.

His classmates laughed and jeered for a while, but then returned to their practising. For a moment Colt worried that Jason might strike out at him again to assuage his hurt pride, but then the boy turned away to take it out on a safer victim.

"This is all your fault!" he hissed at Bran. "If you little pansy hadn't betrayed me ..."

"You were out of line," Bran returned just as angrily. "You almost shot a teacher, Jason. Don't you think you've gone a little too far? I used to think you were cool, you know, but I'm beginning to think Ian's right about you. You are nothing but trouble and if we don't take care you'll just get the rest of us expelled with you."

Luckily the wall that Jason chose for his next target was very sturdy and not inclined to talk back.

 

Â Something was different, Fireball found when he arrived to work the next morning. It seemed like the students were whispering and pointing at him behind his back.

Â But why should they act any different today? Surely he was imagining it.

Â But then, what reason did he have to imagine anything?

Â Fireball tried to shrug it off and marched on to Molly's office, maybe a bit more stiffly than normal, but ignoring the students.

Â A group of high school students walked past him. The oldest looking girl started to giggle for no apparent reason and the boys howled and pointed at her.

Â "Uuuuuh, she's in looooove!" one of them squealed. "Why don't you go ahead and kiss him?"

Â "Eeeww!" squealed the others.

Â "Girls are so gross," one of them declared.

Â "Get out of my way," a determined little voice demanded.

Â The boy looked rather astonishedly at something Fireball couldn't see.

Â "Well?" the voice demanded again. "Let me pass."

Â The first boy stepped aside to make way.

Â "Don't," he hissed at the second boy. "Thatâ€™s the insane girl. Just get out of the way before she bites you or something. You might catch something."

Â Hannah marched past them as if she hadn't heard, ignoring the giggling, laughing, jeering, whispering and Fireball completely.

Â Fireball shook his head about it all and fled into the oasis of peace and sanity that was Molly's office.

Â "Try to stay out of the headmaster's way for a while," the secretary told him at a whisper. "He's rather annoyed at Saber's visit."

Â "Saber visited him?" This was news to Fireball. "He never said."

Â Molly shrugged.

Â "Well, apparently he mentioned you in some way that annoyed the General anyway. Don't worry about it though. Such moods are really rare with him and never last long."

Â Fireball nodded. He didn't feel like drawing the headmaster's attention after their last meeting anyway.

Â "How're things with Hannah?" he asked instead. "I just saw her out there and she was acting really weird."

Â Another shrug.

Â "She's still acting up. I guess it's getting her her attention. I've told her teacher to send her to me next time she catches her, though. I'll put the fear of God in her, you can be sure of that."

 

Â April returned to the hangar arm in arm with Stephen. They'd had an excellent dinner and it had been very hard to resist the temptation to accept Stephen's invitation to stay the night, but it was a Sunday and she should have spent it with the boys, if she had that much time to spare.

Â "Why April, we almost thought you'd been abducted!" a loud voice greeted her.

Â "Colt!" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Â "We happened to have nothing better to do and thought we'd drop by for a surprise visit," Colt replied easily, but he was looking at their arms. "We haven't seen you in so long."

Â "It appears we aren't welcome, though," Fireball said hotly.

Â Would he attack a civilian? He'd never gone through the proper Star Sheriff fighting training, of course, but Saber had trained with him and Colt, and he had a lot of experience fighting Outriders. Besides she herself had shown him some of her best moves.

Â And Stephen? How good a fighter was he? He was strong and quite agile, but it was all from his engineering work, lifting heavy parts and mounting them in tight spaces. He couldn't possibly be a match for the racer.

Â "Oh nonsense," she said trying to de-escalate the situation. "Of course I'm always glad to see you. We just stepped out for a little while to get something to eat before we continue our work."

Â "A pretty long little while," Fireball spat. "We've been here for three hours."

Â Had it really been that long?

Â "That can't be. Surely we left only a few minutes ago."

Â "Time sure flies when you're having fun," Colt commented lightly. "Come on, Fireball, we'd better leave the engineers to catch up on their work, if they've lost so much more time than they planned on. I'm sure April will call you tonight. Won't you, April?"

Â Colt was saving her? Or was he? Maybe he simply felt sorry for Stephen, or didn't want Fireball to get in trouble. The racer sure looked furious. What if he ignored the cowboy?

Â "Why of course I will! I'll call tonight! I promise!" she confirmed hastily and luckily Fireball did let Colt drag him back to his car.

Â "Those two are weird," Stephen remarked as soon as they were gone.

Â "Oh no, not at all," April assured him. "Fireball just saw our arms and ... got the wrong idea. He's a little possessive of me sometimes and when Colt realised that he was getting angry he found an excuse to take him away. That's all."

Â "Got the wrong idea," Stephen repeated thoughtfully. "Did he?"

Â April didn't reply even though she was very sure that Fireball did indeed have the wrong idea about something. What she wasn't at all sure of however was which something it was: her feelings for Stephen, or her relationship with Fireball.

Â She had never made Fireball any promises for the future, had she? Did he really assume that she was his for the rest of their lives? Did she want to be? She'd have to think this over.

 

Â Fireball spent the rest of the day sitting by the phone waiting for the promised call, at first excitedly, then hopefully, then nervously and finally just clinging to a last desperate hope. April couldn't have forgotten she'd promised to call him, could she? She must have been held up by something important!

Â Except that she had promised to call him once before and had never done it, nor had she apologised. That couldn't possibly have happened if she still loved him.

Â No, she was in love with that stupid, tall and handsome engineer and she didn't want to tell him. Maybe she didn't even want to act on it, because she knew it would break Fireball's heart, but her feelings for him were gone and she'd only continue their relationship out of duty.

Â That wasn't what Fireball wanted. He'd have to get her to tell him the truth so he could set her free. He'd get over it once he was back out among the stars and had other things to think of then just April. Then there'd be duties and hopefully also battles and ...

Â And he'd be stuck on a small spaceship with April seeing her all the time. How could he ever get over her under those circumstances? How had April managed to get over Saber?

Â By throwing herself whole-heartedly into her relationship with Fireball! That was all he'd ever been to her! Something to distract her from Saber. It had been fine while it'd lasted, but now she'd found a man that really suited her and now he was in the way.

Â Fireball hit and kicked the wall a few times, but that only hurt and while he did feel used and cheated he had to admit that he could understand April only too well. He wished there were another woman on the team so he could do the same.

Â Maybe he ought to try to find another girlfriend in town after all? But what sort of distraction would she be when he went on patrol and she stayed behind while April was there all the time?

Â It would have been so much easier to avoid an ex-girlfriend back in his racing days. Sure, the other racing teams had usually all gone to the same places he had, but they'd never been thrown that closely together and if you counted all the hangers-on and die-hard fans it had been a very large community, never as close as the Ramrod team and with a lot of enmities and rivalries going on, but one still had had a sense of belonging and the chance to pick the people one hung out with. It wouldn't have been hard to find a new girlfriend then.

Â Perhaps he should go back to it. It would be fun to race again and Cavalry Command had no proper claim on him. Did it even need him now that the Outriders were gone?

Â It was almost three in the morning when he gave up waiting for April's call and went to bed to dream of cars and races and pretty girls throwing themselves at him.


	11. December Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exam time, graduation, oh, and some changes need to be made to the Ramrod team.

Chapter 11: December Again

 

"I don't know, Saber," the psychologist said. "There is no doubt that you are doing much better than you were when we started, but you haven't improved as much as I'd hoped and much of that improvement is probably due to having been under a lot less pressure this year. I'm not sure it's a good idea to let you return to the front line just yet."

"There is no front line right now," Saber pointed out. "It'd only be border patrols And do you realise that we are most likely talking about the end of the Ramrod team?" he asked trying hard not to show how much the idea of losing his friends hurt him. "April can't keep overhauling Ramrod forever and there is a new mission she has lined up for it. It's top secret, so I'm afraid I can't give you any details, but it is not a battle mission and it can't wait. She'll do that with Ramrod with or without me. After that she'll have to move on to something else, most likely patrolling the border in Ramrod, but it might also be a new engineering project while Ramrod returns to patrolling without her. Fireball will return to active duty, most likely on Ramrod, but with a new commanding officer there, even that isn't ensured. Either way I'm not likely to get them back. Their new commanders won't just want them for temporary jobs."

"And Colt?" the psychologist prompted apparently ignoring all those problems.

"Colt might return to Ramrod if Fireball and April do, I suppose. He'll probably want to be with his friends. If the team splits up completely, though ... I don't think Colt would mind teaching for another year, if I asked him to wait for me. There just wouldn't be a team left for us to return to afterwards."

The psychologist nodded. "I'll have another talk with each of your team-mates," he announced then still ignoring Saber's concerns. "And then discuss the results with Commander Eagle. You will hear the final decision from him."

And, Saber thought, that decision was sure to be that he was to return to the Academy for another year of teaching. The team he loved so much would split up and then he'd ... what? Not return to spying, that much he was sure of and the psychologist was sure to second that choice since he had identified his time as a spy as the source of his ... illness.

He'd ask Commander Eagle to give him command of another team then, he decided, maybe one that had lost its commanding officer or an entirely new one that he could put together himself. In fact, the latter was probably a better idea since he would be in an excellent position to pick young Star Sheriffs after having taught the last two years of them. He'd already know most of the available candidates.

But then a new realisation came to him. Perhaps Commander Eagle wouldn't want him to lead again. Perhaps he'd think that Saber couldn't handle the pressure of a command position. In that case his career was over. He wouldn't have to quit the service, of course, and most likely Commander Eagle would find a way to avoid demoting him after all he had done for the New Frontier and Cavalry Command, but he'd put him in a position where he'd practically serve as a common soldier and never be promoted again.

"Bad news?" Ian Doe asked when he got into the car. "You look like somebody's died."

"Just possibly my career," Saber replied.

Ian gaped at him for a moment, then caught himself.

"Why? What did you do?"

"Oh, not like that," Saber assured him hastily. "I was exaggerating. It's just that the psychologist evaluated the therapy results today and wasn't as happy with them as I hoped he'd be. Now he's going to discuss them with Commander Eagle. I always assumed that he'd tell me weâ€™re done, all is well and I'd go back to my old life."

"But he hasn't said that you won't," Ian pointed out. "What else would they do with you, anyway? They can't just dismiss you, right? Give you a desk job, perhaps?"

"Another year of teaching and more therapy, I expect, but my team can't wait for me any longer, so I'll lose it. Ramrod is needed for a special mission, April has nothing else to do, Fireball hates teaching and even if I could talk him into agreeing to stay on at the Academy anyway, General WhiteHawk has figured it out and will refuse to sign him on. He's told me he'd be happy to recommend him for active duty, though. Colt likes teaching well enough to stay with me and the headmaster would be happy to have him, but the rest of the team will be gone and none of them will like that."

"So, why don't you let Mr. Colt go with the rest of the team and rejoin them in a year?" Ian suggested.

"They'd still need a new commanding officer and nobody would accept that as a temporary job." Well, Fireball probably would, but he was far from ready for it. "There'd be no position left vacant for me."

But the team wouldn't be destroyed completely. Only he would have to be replaced and the others would still have Ramrod and each other. Cavalry Command would be able to rely on their experience and well practised cooperation.

"It might be the best choice, though," he told Ian. "I'll just have to get used to the idea of starting over with an entirely new team." It definitely would solve Fireball's problem. "What about you though? are you nervous about the exams?"

"Not really, actually," Ian said with a slight smile. "Do you remember how you told me to look into what other talents I have? Well, I've done so and researched alternatives to spying and ... well, I know pretty well what I'd like to do if I can't be a Star Sheriff, so if I fail ... Well, if it happens in a Star Sheriff specific class I can still do that, and if it isn't, then I'll just go to the poly-technical next year. I'm not scared at all. ... Well, I'd rather not have to repeat the grade first."

"You'll probably be fine," Saber assured him. "You are the most diligent student in all my classes and I doubt you are much worse in any of the more interesting subjects."

Ian laughed.

"They aren't all more interesting," he said. "Only most of them."

 

Class thirteen was a lot less troublesome than usual today, Colt noticed with pleasure. They all appeared to be focussing on their targets and were working in harmony. Perhaps it was the approaching exams, though Colt didn't think any of them still needed extra practise.

Unless they missed due to nerves they were all sure to pass. Their shooting skills never had worried him much. That thought made him notice another change.

Bran Jonassen had apparently chosen to get in line between Ian Doe and Max Hartford, with Davie Quinto completing their group, an apparently happy quartet of friends that chatted away pleasantly in whatever combination it was left while one of them was shooting.

Several metres away from them Bran's once constant companion Jason Evans was standing with another group consisting of Hussain Ahmeidi, Lynn Thomas and Taro Hatamoto, though none of those three seemed to be interested in talking with him, not that he was making any attempts to start a conversation either. At first glance he appeared to be angry, but Colt could recognise a mask when he saw one.

"Cadet Evans!" he called out to the boy. "Please come into my office for a moment."

Evans secured his gun properly as Colt noticed with satisfaction and wound his way through the rows of students.

"I wonder what he's done this time," Hatamoto remarked to Ahmeidi.

Noticing how tightly Evans pressed his lips together at that Colt decided to help him out.

"Nothing at all, Cadet Hatamoto, I merely want to have a word in private with him. You may have noticed that's what I do when I don't want to disrupt the class. So be so good and keep practising."

Evans had reached him now and was giving him a measuring look, clearly unsure whether he should trust in this declaration of friendly intentions.

Colt nodded at him to enter the office.

Jason did and leaned against the wall. Now that couldn't be tolerated so Colt nodded towards a chair.

"Sit down, Cadet. No need to stand."

Evans sat.

"You're quiet today," Colt remarked. "And I've noticed that you aren't working with your usual partner. Did you and Jonasson have a row?"

"Doe convinced him that being friends with me is bad for his career," Evans snapped. "Not that it is any of your business."

"Well, I'm afraid that Cadet Doe might not be entirely wrong," Colt allowed. "You have gotten Jonasson in trouble more than once. As well as some of your other friends. You have a reputation as a troublemaker that will make people think twice about choosing to work with you. Some people might be quick to extend that judgement to your friends. Not that they should, but that's what people are like."

"And you think it serves me right," Evans snapped.

Colt shrugged. "I think that that's how it is and, if you don't like it, well, perhaps it's time you try to adapt your behaviour. Your training is almost over and the time for fun and games with it. Out there disobeying your commanding officer can get you or an innocent bystander killed. If you start acting like a responsible adult now, though, it may be that people will eventually stop holding your Academy disciplinary record against you. Eventually people will laugh at what a silly boy you were and look more at the man you grew up to be. It won't be hard to make new friends wherever you go from here, if you stop endangering and antagonising people, and most likely your old friends will come around once they see that you've grown more reasonable. Just ... don't get yourself kicked out over some foolish stunt. It's not worth it."

For a moment he wondered what Jesse Blue would tell this boy. A pity he couldn't get him here to have this talk with Evans in his place. He was pretty sure that Jesse would be able to impress the young fool. If he wanted to, of course. He probably wouldn't care.

 

It had taken some convincing, but in the end Colt had managed to talk the headmaster into scheduling the Shooting exam of the polytechnical class as the very first at 8 am on the Monday of exam week. Then he simply called on Tuesday Omawombe as the first student.

"Aren't you going to do this in alphabetical order?" the head of the exam commission asked.

"Is there a rule that says I have to?" Colt returned. "I think Mr. Omawombe wants to get this exam over with most of all. As Psychology teacher I know that it will be detrimental to his performance in his other subjects if I leave him to suffer too long."

"Suffer? Look, if the boy has nerves, those will always affect him and it isn't fair to the other students ..."

"He does not have nerves," Colt snapped, maybe a bit too vehemently. "He has ethical issues."

"It is still unfair to those students who have to wait," the head of the commission returned even more loudly.

"Then it is completely fair to Mr. Ulysses that Miss Adams should always have the shortest wait, because A happens to be the first letter in the alphabet?" Colt demanded angrily.

"I'd much rather it weren't!" Miss Adams squeaked out of the group of students. "I hate always having to go first."

"Then you won't mind Mr. Omawombe going before you, will you?" Colt asked her.

"No, not at all," she shook her head vehemently.

"There you see, the students are fine with it," Colt declared and stepped forward before the head could raise another objection. "Now, Mr. Omawombe, this is your mark and that there is your target. You have five shots and have to hit the target at least three times for a passing grade. The closer to the centre the better, but just hitting the target is good enough to pass, any questions?"

Tuesday Omawombe shook his head looking miserable.

"Well then, here's the blaster. Just keep in mind that if you hit that target three times this is the last time you will ever have to shoot."

Tuesday attempted a weak smile of gratitude and reached for the gun with a shaking hand. Colt could only hope that he'd be able to hold it steady enough to meet the task. He stepped back as Tuesday closed his eyes maybe in an attempt to calm himself, or perhaps in a prayer for forgiveness. Colt didn't know.

"Why really, what will that boy do in a fire-fight," the head scoffed.

"Get behind cover and wait until the shooting stops," Colt returned loud enough for the students to hear. "This is a polytechnical class, Sir. These students have no ambitions to become soldiers and I will not grade them by the same standards as those who do. They can aim as slowly as they like to."

But Tuesday didn't need that much time after all. He fired only moments after reopening his eyes. And then twice more in rapid succession.

Three clear holes in the target proved that every shot had been good enough, though none were close to the centre. Colt breathed more easily.

Tuesday turned around.

"Do I have to take the other two shots, Sir?" he asked a little shakily.

"Of course, if you want more than just barely a passing grade," the head replied, but Colt held up his hand to forestall him.

"Are you content with just barely a passing grade, Mr. Omawombe?" he asked the boy.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Then you don't," Colt said and the wide, happy smile on Tuesday's face warmed his heart. "Congratulations, Mr. Omawombe, and I wish you the best of luck following your calling."

"Thank you, Sir. For everything."

Colt was still smiling when he turned to look at Dinah Adams. Another small questioning smile answered him and all of a sudden he realised what he ought to do. He'd be as fair to all his students as he could be.

"So," he asked. "Does anybody else here think that waiting his turn is the worst part of exams?"

Three hands rose into the air a little reluctantly, but there they were.

"Well then, Mr. Ulysses, you shall be second for once in your life."

"But my list is alphabetical," the head protested.

"Well Sir, that just now was Mr. Omawombe, whom you'll find under O, and this is Mr. Ulysses, starting with U, which you'll find at the very bottom of the list," Colt replied easily. "Now, Mr Ulysses, as you can see the target has already been replaced and you are to shoot from the same spot Mr. Omawombe did. Here is your blaster."

 

Exam week was quite a headache for teachers as well as students, Saber discovered, literally. Both his subjects required written tests and oral exams in front of a commission and the tests had to be graded before the student in question appeared before the commission, but there was next to no time for grading during the day as Saber also had to supervise during other tests.

Saber sighed, gave the stack of over a hundred still unmarked papers another hopeful glance and rubbed his temples. It didn't look any smaller than it had half an hour ago, though Saber had been grading non-stop.

At the other side of the kitchen table Colt was leaning back in his chair feet on the table next to a similar stack ... with the only difference that he owned only one such stack. There was no such thing as a written Shooting exam.

"Something wrong?" the cowboy asked easily.

"Just a headache," Saber admitted. "I've been staring at papers too long and not sleeping enough, but if I stop and go to bed now I'll probably have to work all night tomorrow."

"Try having some coffee," Colt suggested. "And relax. You don't have to be all stiff while you're grading. There's nobody here to see you."

Except for Colt and Fireball, the subordinates he had to set a good example of military bearing to, even if they very likely wouldn't be his subordinates for much longer. As long as he still hadn't resigned his position on the Ramrod team yet, he wanted to fill it properly.

"I suppose a cup of tea to go with the work won't hurt me," he allowed. It did sound rather appealing in fact. He got up. "Do you want one as ..."

The sudden ringing of the phone caused a wave of pain to surge through his head. He took a step towards it, but Colt waved him back towards the kettle.

"Fireball, could you get that?" the cowboy called in he direction of Fireball's closed door. "We're rather busy here and it's probably April anyway."

The door opened and Fireball came out scowling quite uncharacteristically.

"Probably calling to say that she can't make it this weekend because Professor Toleda has had a brilliant new idea where he hasn't shagged her yet," the racer muttered, but he did go and pick up the phone, so Saber went and filled the kettle with water and set it to boil.

"Yes, Sir! Right away!" he heard Fireball bark into the receiver a little too loudly for his head.

"It's for you, Saber. Commander Eagle," the racer reported when he returned into the kitchen.

Saber flinched. Commander Eagle? Now? That couldn't be good news, could it? And had Fireball and Colt noticed his reaction? Had he gone pale? He certainly felt sick enough.

"Right. Watch the kettle while I talk with him, alright?"

Fireball nodded. "Sure, but ... what for?"

"That the water doesn't boil over," Colt supplied. "Seriously, Fireball!"

Saber decided to trust in Colt's ability to prevent Fireball from burning down the house and went to the phone. He'd have to be strong for his team. They depended on him doing what was best for them and right now, if Commander Eagle was about to say what Saber expected him to say, that meant that he had to leave them.

"Commander?"

"Saber, is everything alright? You sound strained."

Well, at least the Commander sounded friendly and even concerned enough. Though on the other hand that might also be because he thought Saber was too fragile to be handled normally.

"Just a headache, Sir. We're in the middle of exam week and Colt and I are buried in tests that need to be graded before the oral exams and of course we can't afford to let our concentration slip for a moment on those. It's exhausting work, but we are doing it for our cadets."

"Of course, and I hate to pull you away from it, but ... have you seen the changes April has made to Ramrod, yet?"

Huh? What was that about?

"No, I haven't been there. Fireball and Colt stopped by a little while ago and said it was all still under construction and not ready to be seen. The last thing I want to do is get in the way and hold up April's work."

"Have you seen the plans then?"

"No, haven't you?" Surely April had had to send them in for approval.

"Yes, of course, but how familiar are you with the arrangements she has made for her two saddle units?"

Saber blinked.

"Two saddle units? Which two saddle units? This is the first I've heard anything about changes to the saddle units."

"Well, it is only for the duration of the tests ... April has told you about the new dimension jumping technology that you are to test, right?"

That YOU are to test? Then he was going back to Ramrod after all? Saber's heart sped up hopefully.

"Yes, Sir," he said carefully keeping his voice neutral. "Doctor Toleda's work, isn't it? And he is to join us for the duration of the tests as well?"

"Yes, exactly. As it turns out those tests will also require April to monitor some equipment in the living section. They have built in a lift to take her up to her normal saddle unit if you have to go into Challenge Phase, but I just don't like it. You are going to make several jumps into the vapour zone, if everything goes as expected and we have no idea where you will come out. I want you ready to go into Challenge Phase the moment you come out of the jump and that requires four Star Sheriffs already in their saddle units. Since you are currently at the Academy and have been teaching them for a whole year, I think you are in an excellent position to choose a young Star Sheriff to add to your team."

A new team member?

"Hold on, Sir. Is that a permanent position or just for the duration of the tests. I don't want to make the poor young man any promises I can't keep."

"I think it might be best to call it a trial period and if the new guy works well with the existing team he can stay on as a reserve pilot. There has been more than one occasion when you had a member injured or held up outside the ship after all. The requirement of four pilots clearly is Ramrod's biggest weakness so a fifth team member will be very useful."

"I ... thank you, Sir. Iâ€™ll go over the list of students again and get the opinions of their other teachers. I already have some good candidates in mind, but of course I don't know how they are performing outside my own classes." Except for what he'd heard by gossip and he refused to admit to that in front of his commanding officers.

Gossip or no, though, Saber knew exactly whom he wanted to join his team.

 

"Oh, and April? Can you add another cabin to Ramrod?" her father asked much to Aprilâ€™s surprise. "Or a second bed to one of the existing ones?"

"Why Daddy, we have enough cabins," April assured him. "We'll even have a spare one once the tests are over."

"You'll need another bed during the tests," Commander Eagle insisted. "Or else you'll have to sleep in shifts with two people sharing their bed."

"What?" April yelped. "Daddy that's ... that's unthinkable! You know I'm not going to share my bed with a man. That would be inappropriate. And I can't ask it of Doctor Toleda either. Saber and Fireball might not mind sharing for duty's sake too much, but Saber is the highest ranking team member, so that would be inappropriate as well and I can't ask Fireball to put up with Colt. That cowboy's so messy it's unbearable."

"Well, then either Fireball or Colt will have to share with the new addition ... unless of course it's a woman. Then only you can share with her, of course."

What? Oh no, he couldn't do that to her!

"But Daddy, I'm the only one that has the skills and knowledge to supervise the dimension jumping technology together with Dr. Toleda. It would take ages to train somebody new and I've been looking forward to it so much! It's such a big chance for me, an engineer's dream project!"

"I know. April," her father said sounding unaccountably sad. "That's why I've asked Saber to hire a young Star Sheriff and not you to pick another engineer for your team. I understand that you are an engineer at heart and ... well, I want you to know that I won't stand in the way of your happiness Cavalry Command needs engineers as much as it needs Star Sheriffs and I will always be proud of you, no matter which profession you choose."

"But Daddy, I ... Ramrod is my creation, and the team ... Fireball ..."

"Now, now, surely Fireball's love for you isn't so shallow that he'd forget you just because he's no longer working with you all the time. He hasn't been neglecting you just because you are doing engineering work and he is teaching now, has he?"

"Well ..."

"Your mother never served on the same team as I either, but we were still very happy together, maybe even happier than couples that see each other everyday. Every night that we were separated we'd both think of how happy we'd be when we'd meet again after the mission. It always made it a very special holiday."

"But what about Ramrod? I don't want to leave him behind. I don't want to give up my career as a Star Sheriff. I don't want to abandon the team!"

"Then you'd rather give up your career in engineering?" Commander Eagle asked. "I'll always be proud of you, but you'll never have much of a career in either profession if you keep trying to do both. You need to choose one or the other."

"I ..." wasn't this exactly what Stephen had said? And she'd already promised him to think it over. "I'll think about it, Daddy, but I need some time to make up my mind. I'll tell you after this testing mission. I'd be going on that either way anyway, so I don't have to decide now, do I?"

"No," Commander Eagle said seriously. "But you really need to be sure of it. You have to choose once and for all. No going back and changing your mind later."

 

Saber was waiting by the door when Colt got out of his last exam of the day. He was wearing his usual stoic mask, but Colt knew him well enough to notice that he was less tense today - in fact, he had been since breakfast, despite yesterday's late night and headache.

"Good news?" the cowboy asked casually as Saber fell into step beside him.

"Yes, I suppose they are good," Saber replied just as casually. "I have unofficial confirmation that we are to conduct those experiments April has been so excited about as soon as the modifications on Ramrod are complete. She is sure to be pleased even though she can have had little doubt of it."

"You had doubts though," Colt asked easily even though of course he'd known.

"Not as far as April was concerned," Saber allowed. "But I thought they might want to give her a crew with a more technical focus for it. Nothing of the sort seems to have occurred to the Commander, though, and I suppose in the current political climate we can afford to send fighting teams on such missions. He merely wants us to take along an additional Star Sheriff to handle communications and possibly be groomed for a more permanent position on the team. From what I have seen of our cadets, I have an incomplete impression of their skills, especially where actual fighting ability is concerned. You know how well they shoot, though, so I would appreciate your input."

He wanted Colt to suggest Ian Doe, of course, so he wouldn't feel like he was favouring the boy. Colt wondered what he'd do, if he didn't oblige. Ian Doe was the best choice, though. Not because of his shooting skills, though those were good enough, but because of his maturity. Still ...

"It might be best to have several candidates in mind," he suggested. "The best candidates will be sought after, I expect, and might already have made different plans or ... we might end up requiring two after all."

"Of course," Saber said as if that had been the plan all along.

"I suppose Ian Doe will be your first choice as well," Colt continued. "But I know for a fact that we are not the only ones that have noticed his merits and I think he has different plans. We should ask him of course, but not be surprised if he declines."

"He wants to be a spy," Saber confirmed. "But I think that would be a waste of his talents. He might make an excellent team leader someday considering the influence he already has on his classmates now."

"Spies don't always stay spies," Colt reminded Saber. "As you of all people should know. I'm much more concerned about the future of Jason Evans. He'll need supervision and guidance until he has matured enough to take responsibility for his actions. You once wanted to take that role for Jesse Blue."

"I did at least want to guide him back to Cavalry Command, yes," Saber admitted. "But I'm no longer sure that I would have been up to the task. It might be wiser to leave Evans to someone more experienced with such troublemakers."

"If only we could be sure that that is what he'd find if we don't take him, I'd agree. You might be the best he can hope for, though, and I think once he actually sees you in battle he'll soon learn some respect. If we don't take Jason, though, Bran Jonassen would be a good choice."

"Jonassen?" Saber repeated sceptically. "What ever makes you think that?"

"He let Evans lead him astray in the beginning, but has been performing really well since their separation. He has matured quite a bit this year and will make an excellent Star Sheriff, if he continues his efforts. If he were to fall back under the influence of Evans or somebody like him, that would be prevented, though. Taking him, if we don't choose Evans as well, would be a way to ensure his positive further development."

Saber gave him a sidewards glance.

"That's all very well, Colt, but I think you need to readjust your perspective. You've become too used to thinking like a teacher and I need a Star Sheriff's perspective here. We are choosing a team-mate that will go into battle with us, somebody we can rely on as a partner, not a child we need to teach. We need a soldier, not a student."

Yes, Colt realised with a touch of surprise, he was thinking like a teacher and not like an officer choosing a soldier. But why should he be thinking like an officer? He had never been one, while he was a teacher right now. Nor had he ever had any ambitions to become an officer. He was much more comfortable as a simple soldier - or a teacher.

Still, he pulled himself together and tried to see the students the way Saber wanted him to.

"Max Hartford then," he decided. "He is less cooperative and more competitive than Ian Doe, but very mature as well and I suppose he'll relax a bit once he realises that he has a permanent position on the team and nobody to compete for it with."

"I'd rather he didn't compete with Fireball, though," Saber remarked. "Our racer can get very competitive as well."

"That's true," Colt allowed. "Liu Chang, then? It might be nice for April to have another woman on the team and Chang is an excellent shot. She doesn't strike me as officer material, but that might be due to her youth and you are already training Fireball for that. You'd probably do better to hire a new second in command once he leaves the team."

Saber's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. He didn't like the thought of Fireball leaving as Colt well knew. Still, someday he'd have to. You couldn't have two team leaders on one team.

"And that is probably years away," Colt said to diffuse the situation anyway. "We can keep our eyes on the others' development until then and maybe if Doe turns us down now, he'll have changed his mind then. And of course we shouldn't forget all the new cadets that will have graduated in the meantime. One of them might suit us even better than Doe."

"We won't know them as well," Saber pointed out. "But you are right. A lot might happen between now and then. It's hard to plan that far ahead. Thank you for your input. I think I'll ask General WhiteHawk's opinion next. He has the most experience predicting how cadets will develop."

"It might be a good idea to ask Fireball as well," Colt warned. "He might still harbour a grudge against Evans and his friends or dislike the idea of working with a former student."

"He hasn't taught most of them at all," Saber returned. "And I don't really care about their driving skills. They are free to choose to drive, ride or fly as far as I'm concerned."

Colt almost reminded him that three riders on the team might make them a bit too one-sided, but thought better of it. Saber was the officer after all. It wasn't Colt's place to question strategic or tactical decisions.

 

Saber went straight on to Molly's office to ask when there might be a good opportunity to talk with the headmaster and found General WhiteHawk there right there and then.

"Ah Saber," the headmaster remarked. "You might like to know that I happened to see Commander Eagle yesterday and he mentioned that you will not be continuing with us next year. He seems to have some research project for you and your team."

"Oh yes," Saber returned just as casually for the benefit of the students listening in. "He already hinted that to me as well. In fact, there is a detail that I wanted to discuss with you sometime before I leave."

"Then why don't you come inside and we can discuss it over a cup of tea," the headmaster invited him.

"I guess you are relieved to be rid of us," Saber said the moment the office door closed behind him.

"Nothing quite that extreme," General WhiteHawk assured him.

"You don't need to pretend for my sake. I, too, was quite relieved when the Commander called me and told me to recruit an extra team-member for the mission. For Fireballs sake, I mean. The poor boy has been miserable this year and this mission is much more to his taste. I was worried how he'd take it, if I'd been assigned to stay on for another year. None of us liked the idea of splitting up the team, but Fireball outright hated it and he really does belong out there."

"He did also tell you that it was a very difficult decision, didn't he?" the General asked.

"No," Saber asked fighting down his shock and surprise. "He didn't. Probably because he didn't actually tell me the decision yet. He just asked me to recruit one of the cadets as a temporary replacement for April and possibly spare permanent member. Of course he wouldn't have left that decision to me if I weren't to lead the team during that time, though."

"The psychologist is unsure how you will react to returning to active duty and has recommended caution," WhiteHawk revealed to Saber's dismay. Commander Eagle was discussing that with his fellow officers in high command now? Saber didn't want to know what the consequences for his career would be. "He thinks that there still is a high risk of a relapse. I ... Well, I suppose it is no secret that I have always been very fond of you. I would have preferred that Commander Eagle didn't take such a risk with your health and even though you are far from my ideal of a teacher, I would have been glad to keep you for another year under the circumstances."

"I'll be fine," Saber promised. "I know what symptoms to look out for and I'll ask Colt to warn me if I should really overlook them."

"You might not always have Colt to watch over you," the General said. "And all I meant to say is that you are welcome to return to us even though your performance hasn't been stellar. Just call me, if you need help."

"Thank you," Saber said, convinced that he never would make use of the offer that he knew didn't extend to Fireball. He'd just have to make sure he proved the psychologist wrong. "What I meant to ask you to help me with is the choice of the cadet I am to recruit. I am thinking of Ian Doe as my first choice, but ..."

"It can't hurt to make him an offer," the headmaster said unusually guardedly. "It is definitely a rare opportunity for a boy only just out of the Academy, so he just might accept, but I think that you ought to know that he has made inquiries in a very different direction and is about to receive an offer there as well. He will have to choose between a rare opportunity and what appears to be a well considered personal preference. So don't be too surprised or offended if he turns you down."

"Of course not. I am well aware that he has different plans and have some alternative candidates as well." He smiled with amusement. "Would you believe that Colt has actually suggested Jason Evans and Bran Jonassen?"

"I do not only believe it, I even think it is a good idea, if you can make it a position on probation. It would inspire those two to make an effort to behave well while just being dumped into a depot might bring out their rebellious sides. Evans does have some talent when he chooses to make use of it."

"Maybe," Saber allowed. "But I personally much prefer the idea of taking Liu Chang or one of the Ahmeidi twins."

"Chang might make an excellent gunner and I believe she has taken both piloting and driving lessons."

"I am primarily looking for someone for communications, who should be able to serve as an understudy for the other saddle units as well. Colt is our gunner," Saber reminded him slightly taken aback.

"Ah, forgive me. I should be honest with you. I have offered Colt a permanent position, and he at least hasn't declined outright, yet. It might be a good idea to have a replacement for him in mind in case he decides to accept."

"He won't," Saber told him with full conviction. "He's probably just taking his time because he doesn't want to appear completely uninterested. I suspect that he is thinking about retiring to teach someday, but right now he is still of better use on active duty. He won't give that up while he's still young and healthy."

 

Fireball had originally expected the exams to be a time during which he could relax. His students had all already had their driving exams with an official examiner. As far as he knew, they had all passed, but that was no longer his business. He'd done his duty by preparing them for the exams and if any of them had failed ... well, their school days were over anyway, unless they also failed one of their mandatory classes, but even then he wouldn't be here to teach them again for their repeat exam. His year at the Academy was over and with any luck he'd never have to go through another.

What he hadn't calculated on was being assigned to supervise tests along with the other teachers. Sure, he didn't have to do any grading, so he was way better off than Saber and Colt, but somehow it seemed to Fireball that the students behaved a lot worse when he was supervising them than they did with any of the others.

Whichever side of the hall he was on was always noisier and less neat than any other and Fireball had to hasten from one desk to the next to keep silencing the students while his colleagues merely passed up and down their assigned areas.

It was always a relief when the bell rang ... except then he had to make sure that everybody stopped working and handed in their exam papers and didn't ask any hasty questions and make last minute changes as their peers passed them by, obstructing Fireball's vision.

"Hand it in, Cadet!" Fireball ordered a rapidly scribbling red-head angrily. "Now!"

"Oh, just let me finish the sentence!"

"I said now!" he grabbed the paper and pulled and ... it tore.

"Nooo!" the student screamed.

"Well, you should have just handed it over when I told you so," Fireball snapped to cover his own shock at the mishap.

He hastily stacked the papers and put them into the prepared envelope then carried it to the front himself.

"Um ... I'm afraid I damaged the last page tearing it away from the student, Paolo," he admitted to the teacher actually in charge.

Paolo took out the page and examined it thoroughly.

"Really, Fireball, you could have let the poor boy finish his sentence. It doesn't look like he was cheating just ... a bit too long-winded in his answers," he said.

"Well, it wouldn't have been fair to the others, would it?" Fireball insisted feeling tired and annoyed and guilty.

He seemed to be doing everything wrong these days.

"Very well, I'll excuse it and grade the paper anyway, but try not to cause any more damage."

Fireball chose to take that as a dismissal and fled from the room along with the students.

"Fireball!"

He looked in the direction of the call fearing more trouble, but then he recognised April. And she was smiling with delight at the sight of him and spreading her arms!

"April! My love!" he rushed into her embrace forgetting all his trouble and exhaustion.

After her recent lack of interest in him Fireball was quite surprised when April insisted they go out to a nice little restaurant to talk in private, but he didn't quite dare to hope that it really meant that she still loved him after all.

Maybe this was her way of ending it officially? An attempt to tell him gently?

"I ..." she started after finishing her soup, then faltered and Fireball saw his worst fears confirmed.

"It's Professor Toleda, isn't it?" he tried to help her along even though he'd really much rather have shouted and pleaded.

Perhaps, he thought wryly, teaching for a year had left him with a little more self control after all.

"Well, yes, in a way," April agreed, though she looked a little puzzled by the statement. "He does have something to do with it, but really it is much more Daddy's fault."

"Commander Eagle?" Fireball asked surprised. "Him as well? What does he have against me all of a sudden?"

"Against you? Why would Daddy have anything against you? This isn't about you at all. Well, not directly at least. It will affect you indirectly, of course, and that's why I wanted to discuss it with you right away, but it's really all about me."

That didn't sound quite right. Or had Commander Eagle told her to let him down gently before she followed her heart into a new relationship?

"Maybe you should start at the beginning," Fireball decided after a moment. "Because I'm not at all sure who or what it is about anymore."

"Well, ..." April hesitated again. "It starts with Daddy. He has given me an ultimatum. He thinks that I must choose to be either a Star Sheriff or an engineer and give up the other entirely. And I ... well, I love being both but ... Well, for the moment I've convinced him to give me until after the current mission before I must tell him my choice."

"But what's there to choose?" Fireball asked vehemently. "You're part of the team, the New Frontier needs you, you built Ramrod and ... well, what about me?"

He blushed and fell silent.

"Yes, and I don't want to give up any of those things, but ... Professor Toleda has offered me a job working with him. It's the work I was trained for, work that I love and that challenges me. And I'd be developing new technologies for the good of everybody. My position on Ramrod doesn't require my engineering qualifications. Any Star Sheriff could fill it. I don't want to part with Ramrod, but if I don't I'll never get to build anything else."

So she was leaving him after all. How could he have been foolish enough to start to hope that she wasn't just because she had said it wasn't about Toleda?

"And me?" It slipped out as a tiny, broken squeak that he wished he could have taken back before he'd finished saying it.

"Why, it's not like we have to work together to be in love. Of course we wouldn't see each other as much as we used to, but most couples don't. We haven't been working together for a year now and it was fine, wasn't it? We'd be just like Colt and Robyn or Saber and Sincia. We'd ..."

"Fine? You call that fine?" Fireball shouted incredulously. "We never saw each other. You were always so busy I didn't even know whether you still cared. I've been wondering whether you were sleeping with that damned Toleda because you never even returned my calls."

"Y... you were?" April stuttered. "But ... but ... Why of course not! I'd never! I love you and only you."

Her face had gone so bright red that Fireball already regretted having said it.

"Well, I might have exaggerated a little," he backtracked. "But I was miserable seeing so little of you and I did worry that somebody else might get between us. I didn't like the way things were between us this last year, not at all."

"Oh Fireball, it won't be like that, I promise. If I decide to take the engineering job I'll make sure to take time off whenever you're on Yuma. We'll have those times entirely to ourselves. It'll be wonderful."

"Like we had the Sundays to ourselves this year? You promised that, remember? And what became of that? Nothing, that's what. If you take that engineering job, we won't last. We can't."

"Oh nonsense, Fireball. Just think how much we'll miss each other during your missions, and then well be so happy every time you get home. We'll get so much more out of our relationship even if we see less of each other."

"You didn't miss me all that much this year," Fireball said accusingly. "I missed you a lot, but you didn't even notice it."

"We saw each other every weekend and I was busy," April told him a little exasperatedly. "You had a lot less to do than the rest of us. That's why it felt so long between meetings to you."

"We did not," Fireball hissed. "You cancelled most of your weekend visits. Don't do this to me April, please!"

She looked at him. He was such an awfully good looking boy, and he looked so desperate right now. And he was all hers. She didn't want to lose him as well if she had to give up Ramrod and seeing Saber everyday and ... but he'd probably come around once he got used to the idea and had some time to think it through.

"I haven't made a decision yet," She said to reassure him. "I'll probably choose to stay with the team anyway, but I will leave the final choice until after the mission just like I told Daddy. I just wanted to tell you now so it doesn't come as a complete shock if I do decide for engineering after all. I do love you, Fireball and just wait until you see what the newly upgraded Ramrod can do. It's faster and more agile. And then of course it can jump dimensions. Aren't you excited that we'll soon be dashing through the vapour zone?"

 

The gradation ceremony was quite an impressive show. It almost made Colt regret not having graduated himself. Almost. He'd had good reasons for the choices he'd made and even knowing the outcome now he wouldn't change any of them if he could live his life over again. Every step of the way had been worth it, just as the next one would be as well. Of course, changes always meant painful good byes, but for the graduates as well as for him they would bring something new and promising. This was not the time to worry about himself or the students standing proudly in formation before the entire school. It was the ones that were left down here to watch it all with sad, longing eyes that needed his attention now, even though they tended to disappear among all the proud parents and other family members.

Not everybody's parents had been able to come, of course. Colt noticed little Hannah leaning against a wall glaring at where Jose was eagerly pointing out people to his father who had come in full gala uniform.

"And after this there's the graduation of the polytechnical class," Colt heard him say as he passed the two on his way over to Hannah.

"Oh, but surely we don't have to watch that," the general laughed. "Don't you want to congratulate your friends on officially becoming full-fledged Star Sheriffs?"

"Yes, but that can wait," said Jose. "First I've got to watch my friend Tuesday graduate. I promised."

And the new Star Sheriffs would probably be too busy receiving the congratulations of their own families to miss Jose anyway. Colt decided to stay as well. Too many people would leave after the main event ignoring the 'lesser' students. Somebody had to stay and demonstrate some appreciation of their efforts and goals in civilian life.

"Hello Hannah," he called out to the girl when he reached her. "Your parents couldn't make it?"

Hannah shrugged.

"Dad has some party at work that he can't miss," she said. "It's not like it matters. It isn't my graduation, and there'll be a shuttle service to the space-port tomorrow."

"Yes, I heard. Fireball and Saber have both volunteered to drive." More or less voluntarily.

"But you haven't?"

"I'm a pilot, not a driver," Colt said with a shrug, though by that reckoning Saber as a rider shouldn't have been asked either. "And Miss Molly asked me to stay and help her keep track of the departures. I hear things can get very chaotic there."

"Kids are noisy bastards," Hannah observed wisely.

"So, I guess you're looking forward to going home?"

She nodded.

"In a way. I still miss Emmerel, but they will send me back, of course. They don't want me there."

"I'm sorry," Colt said, but Hannah shook her head.

"I'll get by. I've learned that this year. I'll always have to take care of things alone, but I don't need to be scared of it the way I used to be. If I'm not scared I can make them be scared of me and then they give me what I tell them to, not what they want me to want. You want to feel sorry for someone? Go find that Nanook-boy from fourth year. He was crying earlier."

"Nanook Little Bear?" Colt asked surprised. "He always seemed a perfectly happy little fellow. I guess I'd really better check what's up with him. Thanks for the tip."

He touched his hat to Hannah and started to wind his way back through the bystanders again. Just where would Nanook be likely to go? It would have been much easier to find him if it hadn't been for the parents visiting. He knew who Nanook's classmates were and whom he hung out with during meals. Now everybody was with their parents and Colt had never seen any of them before.

Of course he knew that the tall blond woman and short black man to his right couldn't have anything to do with Nanook Little Bear, but there were several Indian couples here tonight.

None of them seemed to have a child in tow, though, and Colt finally found the boy sitting in the back with Anna, the third year girl who'd never shot before arriving at the Academy.

"Well, Anna," he asked her. "Pleased with your grades?"

Anna shrugged.

"Math could have been better, but they'll have to live with that. I passed in any case, and I got As in Sports and Riding."

"They?" Colt asked slightly puzzled.

"My parents. They'll be disappointed I didn't get As in everything they think is important. They can't complain much, though. I passed everything and none of it was a close save. Not even Shooting and I really thought that would be at first."

"And didn't I tell you you'd catch up from the beginning? You'll do just as well as the rest of your class next year," Colt predicted.

"Not good enough," Anna informed him. "I want to be the best. If I'm not they might make me choose the polytechnical class in two years, you see. They just sent me here to punish me. They don't want me to be a Star Sheriff. But I'll show them. I'll be the best soldier ever."

Colt smiled.

"Well, then you'll just have to keep working as hard on it as you have been."

"You bet I will!"

"How about you then," Colt turned to Nanook since the boy still hadn't spoken at all. "Will you be going on to be a Star Sheriff or do you prefer the polytechnical class?"

The boy shrugged.

"Either of those," he said. "I mean, I haven't decided that, yet. I had another decision to make first."

"Ah," Colt said, though he really had no idea what that might be about. "Do you need any help with that?"

"No, I already made the decision. I just need to figure out how to tell Mum and then I can start thinking about what class I want to be in next year. They separated, you see and Mum is going back to the reservation and thinks that I'll come with her and ... well, it's a great place, but they don't have computer games or mecha horses or ... well, pretty much any modern technology. I'd like to know more about how those things work. I suppose I could learn that in the polytechnical class?"

"There are optional engineering classes you can take," Colt confirmed. "They are available to all fifth year students, though. My friend April took them while at the Academy and then," he smiled at the boy. "She built Ramrod."

"Wow, really?" Nanouk gasped.

"All on her own?" Anna asked wide-eyed.

"Well no, she did have help of course," Colt admitted. "He's a bit too big for a single person all on her own, but it was her project. She was in charge. She's quite accomplished both as a Star Sheriff and as an engineer, but, well, you've got to be sure that you really want to be a Star Sheriff. I don't want to push you into anything there and you have most of the summer to decide."

As a student of the Academy's own high school he was guaranteed a place at the Academy if he wanted it after all, so there was no need to apply early.

"I'm glad you'll still be here next year," Anna said. "I love the school and all, and I'd want to come back and become a Star Sheriff either way, but ... you are my best friend here and I'd miss you."

Well, this crisis seemed to be as solved as it was going to get ... except ...

"Are your parents here? Maybe I could help you explain it to your mother," Colt offered.

"No, Dad's meeting me at the space-port tomorrow. I'm to spend the first half of the holidays with him and then to go to Mum. I'll try to tell them both face to face. That's more honest."

But they'd apparently informed him of their divorce by letter. It was hard to see how some parents treated their children when he remembered the loving relationship heâ€™d had with his own parents.

"How about you?" he asked Anna.

"Space-port as well. They did want to come earlier, but their flight was delayed. Some kind of technical issue. It doesn't matter, though. I've got lots of pictures of the school to show them and it isn't my graduation that they're missing. I'll show them the real place next year."

He'd have to look around for other unaccompanied high school children, Colt thought, but when he started to he came across someone he really hadn't expected to see among the watchers.

"Why, Mr. Ahmeidi, not up there with your class?" And seeing him without that he didn't even know which Ahmeidi brother he was talking to!

The boy shook his head sadly.

"I fail English," he explained. "Almost manage, but two points. Hassan make it. I always thought, I better English than Hassan, but now he pass, I fail."

"Oh, that is unfortunate," Colt commiserated. "Two measly points, eh?"

"Yeah," Hussain sighed. "It just luck. I know."

Colt nodded.

"You should try again," he encouraged the boy. "Go straight to Miss Molly and tell her you're going to repeat so she can reserve a place for you. Then keep working on your English all year and you're sure to pass next year."

Hussain nodded.

"I know I should, but I see brother and all friends leave and then all alone next year."

"True," Colt admitted. "That's no fun, but you know it's also a chance to make new friends. You've always been with your brother so far. Now, for the first time, you'll come to school like every other boy, alone and looking for friends. Everybody will be looking, so it won't be hard to find some."

Hussain nodded, but he still looked scared.

He'd have to go through this either way, though, as would Hassan starting his career alone now.

The graduation party for the new Star Sheriffs was in full swing by the time Colt and the polytechnical students and parents joined in. The Omawombes had been quite surprised when their son had insisted on introducing them to his former Shooting instructor. To be honest, so had Colt himself, but it had been a very pleasant surprise that had confirmed him in his decision and made it easier to go through with what he had to do next.

He lost another ten to fifteen minutes looking for Saber and when he finally found him he appeared to be deep in conversation with Ian Doe.

Colt walked up to them anyway.

"Don't think that I don't realise what a generous offer it is," was the first thing he heard Ian say. "But well, remember how you encouraged me to look into what other useful things I might be able to do that might suit me better than spying?"

"Of course I do," Saber confirmed.

"Well, I did and ... In fact it was Professor Colt here who made me realise that there is something much more important and rewarding that I could do."

"Me?" Colt asked taken completely by surprise.

"Yes, remember when you told us of the importance teaching has for the future of young Star Sheriffs? I thought about that and I realised that in fact, every teacher has the chance to help so many people in an entirely positive way, without having to kill or destroy anything and without having to hide. And I have always been good with children. They like me and I like them. It's always been my biggest regret that I shouldn't have children of my own, but by becoming a teacher I can have whole classes of them without risking to pass on my illness. So ... well, I've discussed it with General WhiteHawk and I'll go and take a teaching course over the holidays and return here to teach at the high school next year. I'm really sorry to turn down your offer, but I know that this is what I really want to do."

"Why, that is excellent," Colt said smiling widely. "We will be colleagues then. Do you know what you will be teaching, yet? Maybe we can organise a project together."

"But Colt," Saber reminded him. "We won't be here next year. We'll be taking off with Ramrod again in a few weeks."

Right, this was the hard part, but he had to go through with it for the students' sake.

"I'm sorry, Saber," he said. "I know this must seem like a very sudden decision to you and it wasn't an easy choice for me, believe me, but ... well, General WhiteHawk has offered me a permanent position as well and I meant what I said. I know that I can do more good by teaching than by fighting. We send our cadets out into life-threatening situations after only one year of training and much too young. They need the best preparation that they can get for that, and even if there is another war, Saber, I believe that I can do a lot more to help us win it by training the ones that will fight it than by fighting myself."

Saber stared at him unbelievingly.

"But Colt ... what about ... the team, what about ..."

He still couldn't bring himself to say anything he considered selfish, Colt realised, and it worried him, but right now he didn't have to. Colt knew exactly what he really meant.

"I'll always be your friend," he told Saber. "Just call to tell me whenever you're on the planet. And don't forget to write every once in a while, so I'll know what's going on in your lives. As for the team, it will need a new gunner. I've already given you my recommendations for that position, but of course you can choose whomever you deem fit. I won't have to work with them."

"Evans and Chang?" Saber said a little doubtfully. "I have no doubts the girl will make an excellent Star Sheriff, but ..."

"I thought you were going to hire the reserve member on trial?" Colt reminded him. "And your next mission isn't likely to lead you into any critical situations. If he doesn't fit in or won't behave," Colt shrugged and Saber nodded.

"I suppose it can't hurt to ask whether you're sue you won't change your minds?"

He looked almost pleadingly from Colt to Ian, but they both shook their heads, Their plans were made.

 

Saber had been assigned the same car he'd had on the first day of school. Only the group he was to take to the space-port was slightly different.

Or maybe it was very different, he thought when he saw Anna appear in the door carrying the same suitcase she had arrived with, but standing tall and smiling as she waved back to somebody he couldn't see.

"Good luck! See you in a month!"

"So, happy to be going home?" Saber asked her when she reached the car.

"It's nice to have a holiday," she returned. "And I do want to see my parents again, but I'll miss the place, especially the horses. I'm so glad you told me to sign up for Riding lessons, you know. That was a brilliant idea. It's the best subject ever."

"I'm glad it worked out that way. You looked so very miserable that first day."

She shrugged.

"I just didnâ€™t know how great this place really is. I'm almost glad I was such a bad girl at my old school now. Say, Professor Errol said that you gave some riding lessons a few years ago and that it was a pity you couldn't this year. Do you think you might next year?"

"I'm afraid not," Saber actually felt a touch of regret as he said it. "At least not unless there is a change of plans during the year. Right now I'm scheduled for patrol duty with Ramrod and there probably won't be any chance to arrange guest lessons during the short intervals we'll be home."

"Oh," Anna made a little disappointedly, but a moment later her face lit up again and she waved excitedly. "Ian!"

"Anna!" Ian laughed and greeted her with a hug. "Are you riding back with us then?"

This was the most unpleasant part of this assignment, Saber thought, having to take Ian Doe to the space-port and knowing that he might never see him again after he'd already been so sure that they would be team-mates.

"Aren't you staying here?" Anna asked. "I thought all the new Star Sheriffs were to go on to their new assignments from here?"

"No," Ian said with a grin. "I'm going away in order to stay forever."

"Eh?"

"I'm going to take a teaching course and come back as a teacher next year."

"Oh fabulous! That's even better than if Captain Rider were staying!"

Oh well, he wasn't wanted that much after all.

Tuesday Omawombe and his parents arrived in the company of Max Hartford and little Jose.

"It is so kind of you to give us a ride," Mrs Omawombe told Saber. "I had no idea that there wasn't a bus stop here anymore and my poor old feet are still hurting from the walk here after two days."

"You should have called ahead," Saber told her. "We'd have sent a car if we'd known, but we assumed parents would just rent a car."

"I'll miss you guys," Jose said and hugged Ian, Max and Tuesday in turn.

"Hey, I'm not leaving yet," Max protested. "I haven't even got an assignment yet."

For a moment Saber considered making him an offer there and then, but then he remembered Colt's caution about Max's competitiveness. It would have been fine if he could have simply offered him a permanent position, but since he was to hire two cadets he couldn't put one on trial and the other not. And if they were both on trial, Max would compete with the other candidate even though there were two positions available. That would be bad for teamwork.

"And I'll be back before you are," Ian promised. "Besides, donâ€™t you have enough friends in your class?"

"Can one ever have enough friends?" Jose asked.

"Talking about friends in your class," Saber asked. "Do you have any idea where Hannah is?"

It was almost time to leave and he was still missing passengers.

"The mad girl is no friend of mine," Jose declared. "I don't know where she is and I don't care. We're better off without her."

Saber looked towards the door hopefully when he heard running steps, but it was only Davie Quinto shouting for Tuesday.

Tuesday turned towards him looking surprised and apprehensive as Davie stopped before him panting.

"I just," he forced out. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry I've been a total ass about not being classmates and room-mates this year and I ... I suppose I've totally ruined our last year of school, but I just realised that I might never see you again and I ... I really didn't mean to ruin our friendship."

And Tuesday, ever the good Christian, did hug him and promised to write. Saber could only hope that Davie's contrition would last and he wouldn't soon be exhorting Tuesday to join the army in his letters.

Then there were more footsteps as Nanouk and the Ahmeidi twins rushed towards the car a minute past the appointed time.

"Where were you, Nanouk?" Anna demanded as the twins shared a last hasty hug.

Hassan would be staying on Yuma until he received his assignment while Hussain was going home to spend the holidays with his parents.

"We had to see Miss Molly," Nanouk explained as he squeezed into the back of the car to sit next to Anna. "Me and Hussain want to be room-mates next year and there's little chance of that happening by coincidence. You have to say it right now. There are so may cadet rooms in the dorms. It's nothing like high school."

"So you are going to be a Star Sheriff?" she asked beaming.

"And an engineer. Might as well have two legs to stand on," Nanouk declared.

But where was Hannah? It was high time they left now. Checking in at a busy space port often required long waiting in lines. There was luggage to be registered, security checks to be gone through, tickets to be claimed and shown and the space port was notoriously short on staff.

Hannah however took her time. She arrived almost two minutes late, dragging her suitcase at a leisurely walk.

"Hannah," Saber said. "What took you so long? Hurry up! Aren't you eager to get home?"

"Why would I be?" she asked him in return. "It's not like anybody wants me there."

She let him put her suitcase into the trunk and got into the car, but not even Ian could get her to join into their songs or smile even once on the way.

Saber wished Colt were there. Surely he'd have been able to do something with the girl.

 

The Omawombes left them right in the car park of the space-port thanking Saber once again, but clearly eager to be on their way.

The rest of the group carried their trunks into the arrival and departures hall where Anna and Nanouk were immediately pounced on by their eager parents.

"I'm sorry we are a little late. There were some last minute arrangements to make at the school," Saber explained to Anna's mother while Ian collected the reserved tickets for himself and Hussain.

"There wasn't one for Hannah," he told Saber a little worriedly when he returned. "Maybe we should call back and double-check that with Miss Molly."

Saber nodded and looked around for the little girl. Where had she gotten to?

"Over there," Ian said pointing towards the ticket line.

"One child to Emmerel," he heard her say to the clerk. "No, I'm alone. Is there a law against that?" ... "I didn't think so either." ... "So, can I have my ticket now?"

She didn't even look back at them when she went through the first security check a little while later.

"I'll see what I can do with her next year," Ian promised. "And I'm sure Colt will as well."

And then he and Hussain too were gone and Saber returned to the car alone. The school year was finally over. All he had left to do was drive back to the Academy and hand the key back to Molly and he'd be free. In a few weeks he'd start back into space on-board Ramrod where he belonged and hopefully never would have to teach again.

The car felt strangely empty and silent. Saber turned on the radio.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the experiment is under way! Here we reconnect with Jesse's timeline at some point during Fire or Ice.

Epilogue

 

Fireball moved Ramrod into position with ease. They were going at a leisurely pace, only empty space stretched in front of them as far as the sensors could reach.

"Ready when you are Top Sword. Just say the word."

"It isn't up to me, but to Dr. Toleda and April," Saber returned with his old familiar calm. Even he seemed to be unable to refer to Toleda as Stephen, though, Fireball noted. "Have you heard from them yet, Liu?"

Saber had told Fireball that Colt had recommended Liu Chang for the gunner position, but surely the cowboy hadn't been serious. A girl as a gunner?

Besides that would have put Jason Evans on communications and the boy was hopelessly rude even when he wasn't outright rebellious and so very eager for some proper action.

Fireball and Saber had quickly come to the conclusion that it would be more suitable to do it the other way around and everybody concerned had been pleased. Well, as pleased as anyone forced to work this closely with Jason Evans could be, and April seemed to be a little uncomfortable with Liu being in the command centre with Fireball when she couldn't be there herself to make sure that there wasn't anything going on between them behind her back.

Fireball could have reassured her. He wasn't in the least taken with the girl, but he thought it served April right after the way she'd neglected him and kept him worrying over Dr. Toleda all last year and so he only smiled and told her that he thought Liu was a very charming and competent young woman whenever she brought it up.

"Still waiting for the okay from ... There it is!" Liu reported. "All systems green."

"Alright then. Fireball, initiate dimension jump!"

Fireball pulled the speed regulator forward a little even though that wasn't really necessary. They could have jumped at a standstill as well, but picking up speed and flying into the jump just felt natural.

Then he hit the button. There was a flash of colours, the whole ship bucked wildly and Fireball was very glad that they were all securely strapped into their seats.

And then everything went dark and silent.

"What the hell?" Jason's voice came from over at his station. "Liu, I need visuals! How am I supposed to shoot if I can't see the targets?"

"There probably aren't any targets, Jason," Saber reminded him calmly. "But we do need to see where we're going. All machines stop, Fireball! Liu, bring the main monitor back as quickly as you can."

Fireball felt around for the emergency stop switch blindly and hit it. Nothing happened. Either it wasn't reacting or they hadn't been moving anymore in the first place. But that was impossible! He felt for the speed regulator and pulled that back to standstill position as well. Again he felt no change, but this would have been a less abrupt deceleration than the emergency stop.

"We should be standing still, Saber," he reported. "But we should have felt the stop. I can't tell anything for sure without seeing the displays."

"I'm trying," Liu snapped almost hysterically "But I can't see what button Iâ€™m pushing and so far none of them are showing any reaction."

Jason cursed.

"Do something," Fireball urged. "We need to know what we're doing."

"Calm down, all of you," Saber said sharply, but apparently not at all distressed. "There's no immediate danger. Whatever went wrong with the jump must have knocked out the engines so we were no longer actively moving in the fist place. If we haven't jumped, which seems likely, we are drifting in empty space with nothing in our way. If we have, nothing has hit us yet, so we are probably not under attack. The only risk we are running is that we collide with a meteor or planet and that is highly improbable. Fireball and Jason, just sit back and relax. Liu, take a deep breath and think. Are you sure you didn't accidentally hit he main power button of your console in your attempts?"

"Of course not. I'm not that stupid. I only tried those in the area of the monitor button."

"Good. Then try it now. Maybe something knocked against it when the ship bucked and it's been off the whole time."

In the silence Fireball could actually hear the click as Liu did. No little lights flashed on her console, though.

"No reaction," she reported.

"Alright, then it must be off now. Switch it on again and try every switch and button on your console in turn," Saber instructed. "The monitor would be best right now, but anything would help. I'd be happy to settle for the ventilation system as a big success right now."

Oh right, if they couldn't hear anything, ventilation had to be out as well and that meant they'd run out of oxygen eventually.

Click, click, click ... It was quite an unnerving sound.

Then suddenly a blue light came on above. Fireball blinked at the sudden return of visual input, then looked around at his team-mates.

"Emergency lighting," Jason commented. "Way to go, Liu."

"That wasn't me," Liu said. "My console's still dead."

"It's probably April's doing," Saber concluded. "She knows Ramrod's systems better than any of us. The blue lamps are powered by the emergency generator, if I remember correctly, so maybe the problem is in the main generator. Try switching your consoles to emergency power as well."

Fireball did. The lights and displays still didn't return, though.

"Nothing," he reported.

"Don't be too rash, Fireball," Saber said calmly. "The emergency generator is weaker than the main one. Your console is probably in power saving mode. Liu, try the main monitor again."

"It still isn't reacting."

"Other monitors?" Saber asked. "Try them all in turn."

A moment passed and then one of the small reserve monitors flickered on.

"Yay!" Jason cheered.

"Visuals at last!" Fireball triumphed.

And then some more spare monitors followed suit.

"All the ones that weren't active when we attempted to jump," Saber stated calmly. "Maybe the light show burned the active ones out. Ventilation?"

"Jumped," Jason corrected. "That isn't the empty stretch of space we were in before. We're heading into a solar system."

"Ventilation still isn't responding," Liu reported.

Fireball hit the emergency stop again, then pulled the speed regulator back and forth. They weren't doing anything at all!

"Emergency life support, Liu," Saber ordered. "Fireball, stop us!"

"I'm trying," Fireball yelled in despair as the fans started whirring again. "Nothing's reacting!"

"Then counter-steer," even Saber's voice was showing a hint of tension now. "The engines have to be out. This can only be residual propulsion."

But of course the vacuum of space offered no resistance that could slow them down.

Fireball tried to pull up, then down, then left, right. No reaction and they'd entered the system now, the gravitational pull of the bright central star was reaching out for them and there was nothing Fireball could do.

"Unidentified space vessels sighted at ... Those are Outrider ships!" Jason exclaimed.

"We jumped dimensions after all," Liu gasped.

"I don't have enough power for the big guns, but the smaller lasers are reporting ready just fine," Jason said.

Fireball felt a surge of irrational jealousy. Why were Jason's systems working when his own were so unaccountably unresponsive?

With a sound of metal scraping over metal a hatch opened in the floor and April climbed into the command centre oil-stained and panting and wearing a smear of soot on her right cheek.

"Emergency systems. Everything that was under power during the jump seems to be shot," she said. "Probably a power-surge." Then she caught sight of the monitors. "Landing thrusters, Fireball!"

And he obeyed her automatically, turning all landing thrusters forward and firing them. Finally, finally Ramrod began to slow down, but of course the thrusters weren't powerful enough to stop them. They weren't intended for use outside a planet's atmosphere at all, but only to give additional bursts of propulsion for fine steering during landing manoeuvres.

They were able to slow Ramrod down and alter its course a little, but would never get them out of the gravitational pull of the sun.

Luckily Saber knew that, too.

"Aim for the fifth planet," he said calmly. "It should have the most life-friendly temperatures at least. We can land and make repairs there."

On landing thrusters only they could make a controlled crash-landing at best, but clearly it was the only chance they had.

Fireball slowly reduced the thrust of the left side thrusters to turn them towards the planet.

Unfortunately the Outriders didn't seem to like that. They drew closer forming a vague circle around Ramrod, hovering just out of firing range.

"Damn it, why won't they come just a little closer," Jason cursed.

"Stay calm," Saber said. "They aren't attacking. "Maybe they are just observers. Do we have communications, Liu?"

They were all relatively small ships, not the heavy-hitters that they had usually fought during the war, but then the Outriders probably hadn't been expecting Ramrod here. Perhaps, hopefully, these were the only battle units they had in or near this system.

"I don't know. We weren't sending when we jumped, though."

"Try hailing them then. Maybe we can neg..."

Another ship suddenly rose up from the planet under them, apparently straight out of an ocean. It seemed to intend to rush right past them Fireball realised in the split second before Jason fired all their lasers at once and a bright explosion lit their monitors where the unknown ship had been moments ago.

"No Jason, don't fire!" Saber's scream came too late. "You didn't even know whose ship that was! What if ..."

Whose ever it had been, the Outriders seemed to have only been waiting for them to take the first shot. They dove in from every side making it impossible for Jason to hit them all.

Fireball had intended to glide down onto the planet in a slow spiral, but with the impact of the Outriders' shots throwing the ship every which way that was no longer to be thought of. Ramrod plunged into the atmosphere at a much too steep angle, patches of blue and white rushed past too quickly to make out on the monitors and then they impacted nose-first and once again it was only his seat-belt that kept Fireball in his saddle unit.


End file.
